


When We're 40

by Doctoring



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Angst, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Divorce, Repressed Feelings, Slow Build, Spideypool Big Bang, behold the fanart!, canon typical over consumption of food, dad bod, idiots dragging their feet, idiots to lovers, marriage pact, too many weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 61,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctoring/pseuds/Doctoring
Summary: Peter B. Parker returns from the multiverse to find out that Mary Jane has moved on and is engaged to be married. Feeling that he’s been left behind in life, Peter agrees to a marriage pact with Wade, mainly just to get his dinner back that Wade’s been holding hostage. The deal sets the two men off on a year-long journey of navigating their feelings for each other and what a ‘significant other’ really means. Eventually, they both realize that they don’t want just a silly little marriage pact, but something more real and meaningful with each other. Too bad they’re not the best with admitting their feelings.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, mary jane - Relationship
Comments: 10
Kudos: 116
Collections: Isn't it Bromantic?, Spideypool Big Bang - The 2020 Collection





	1. Spring: Pick-Me-Ups and a Pact

**Author's Note:**

> This work was created for the Spideypool Big Bang event.
> 
> I would like to thank [Jen](/users/yenyen/pseuds/Jennicide) for betaing!! She had to do the most and worked way too hard. I can't properly express how thankful I am to her. I owe her way too many cookies for USPS to handle. BUT IT WILL HAPPEN!! BLESS YOU!!
> 
> I would also like to thank my BB artist, [Chez](https://petitechez-theminion.tumblr.com/) for the gorgeous banner, and the two amazing art pieces. There's a lovely detailed wedding scene and a wonderful scene with Peter B., done in the Spider-verse style. I absolutely love them!

Peter nearly falls out of bed trying to reach his phone. Once he manages to grab a hold of it and checks the time, taking a moment to register if it is three in the morning or afternoon, he reads his notifications. There are the usual notices, a few friends sending memes, a digital coupon, all things he can easily ignore. But then there are the seven messages from Wade.

Peter skims through them all, wanting to reply but not knowing how without being dishonest. He wants to tell Wade how terrible and lost he feels, but he doesn’t want to put that burden on Wade.

_And can he really understand? His divorce was so long ago. He seemed almost nonplussed when it happened. In fact, he seems satisfied by everything in his life or at least unphased by it. He’s fine with his life; I shouldn’t bring him down with mine._

Peter locks his phone and finally drags himself out of bed. He pulls open the curtains and winces at the light. Rubbing his stomach a few times, he decides he should probably go out and find some food.

Fifteen minutes later, Wade is checking his phone for what feels like the 100th time that hour. After seeing a lack of notifications, he decides to open the messaging app just in case, pausing when he spots the four-letter word below his most recent message.

_Read?_

_Read._

_Well, I guess he’s at least reading my messages now. But would it kill him to let me know that he’s still alive and if he’s doing alright?_

Wade thinks back to the last time he saw Peter on patrol many months ago and strains to think of any time he might have seen him since.

_There was that one time at the supermarket where he looked like a freaking zombie. Didn’t know if he came back from a long patrol or—_

_Fuck it, I’m calling him._

Wade paces his living room as he dials Peter, racing to the window when he hears ringing coming from outside the apartment. He feels foolish for his actions, assuming a random default ringtone meant it was his best friend’s phone. When he looks at the streets below, he realizes he was right. He watches Peter look down at his phone before he puts it away. It’s then that Wade hears Peter’s voicemail greeting. He tries not to fume as he sees Peter enter the restaurant below his apartment, cursing loudly when his phone pings. He checks the message.

_Petey:_ I’m busy atm. Sorry.

Wade thinks for a moment before sending a reply, asking him if everything is okay, receiving a simple “yes” in response. He stares out his window, waiting for Peter to leave the restaurant, feeling his heart break at the way Peter slumped down the street.

_You’re not okay, and you won’t be okay if you keep things to yourself. It’s like the divorce all over again, where he tried to hide from the world as he moped._

_Man, and here I was thinking that damn near three years was long enough to wait before I started making moves… but I can’t do that to you when you’re like this._

Two days later, Wade is waiting for his food delivery, standing by the window that faces the street so he knows exactly when to run downstairs. With his face plastered to the glass, a small cloud of fog expanding and shrinking with each breath, Wade spots a familiar green hoodie with grey sweatpants. He perks up at the sight of Peter, peeling himself off the window. Once again, Peter enters the restaurant downstairs. Wade takes a chance and asks Peter if he would like to go grab dinner, resisting the urge to bring up the fact that Peter’s wearing the same clothes as the other day. Peter doesn’t reply until two minutes later, stating that he just got dinner.

_Well, I can see that now._

Wade starts typing up a reply about meeting up anyways when he gets a notice that the delivery man has left the food on his steps.

_Motherfu—I hate when they leave it on the stairs like that for anyone to jack._

He runs down to grab his food, forgetting about Peter until he makes it back upstairs and sees the smears on his window.

_I’ll let him have his dinner in peace, but he’s got a few questions to answer tonight._

Wade jogs to Peter’s place, knocking fervently on the door until a neighbor peeks out from their apartment.

“Sorry, just a wellness check, that’s all,” Wade says, still pounding on the door.

Wade suddenly feels his arm extend much further before making contact with the door, but before he can look, he’s yanked forward. When he regains his balance, he’s standing in Peter’s apartment with Peter’s hand still fisted in his shirt from where he dragged Wade inside. Peter closes his door before letting go of Wade, patting his shirt back in place as he mumbles an apology.

“No worries. Now tell me, what’s going on with you?”

Peter shrugs as he walks towards his couch. “Nothing?”

“You don’t seem that certain about it.” Wade follows him into the living room. “Ah, I see you’ve cleaned up a little. Well, maybe just rearranged the trash.”

Peter quirks a brow at him as he plops down on the couch. “What are you talking about?”

“Ah…” Wade freezes for a moment, mouth still hanging open from that last syllable. He hisses in a breath as he rushes to sit down next to Peter. “Now don’t get mad at me, but… A while back I couldn’t get in touch with you, and I don’t mean like these days so don’t think you’re off the hook for that conversation. I mean _nothing_ was getting through, like your phone was cut off. So I came here to check on you and—”

“You came in through my window again?”

“Hey, I used the door this time, that should count for something. Anyways… your place was in shambles. Not like Peter-shambles, but pizza-left-out-on-the-bed shambles. I’ve been worried about you. It’s not like you to go off the grid for this long.”

“I’ve messaged you.”

“Like once a week. I’d kinda want to talk to my best friend a bit more than that, thank you.”

“Sorry, I’ve just been swamped with work.”

“Ah. Sure. Do you know La Sal de la Vida?”

“La Sal? The Mexican place?”

“Yeah.”

Peter nods.

“I know you do. I live right above it. I saw you there twice this week, and it’s only Wednesday. I know their food is good, but it’s not _that_ good. It’s just drunk-good or depressed-good, so which is it for you?”

Peter sighs heavily as he tilts his head back, staring up at a cobweb on the ceiling. “Honestly? I’ve just had a lot on my mind recently, but before you say anything, no, I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe later, but I’m just not up to it right now.”

“Okay, I’ll respect that, but you better start patrolling with me again.”

“Aw, you missed me?” Peter half-teases.

“So what if I did,” Wade fake huffs before returning to a more normal tone. “Seriously though. If you have a lot on your mind, let’s get your mind off of those things. Let’s patrol later tonight. If things get dicey, you can even sit it out. Just leave your apartment and get some air with me.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever you want.”

Wade figures that’s the best he’ll get out of Peter for now, so he promises to stop by later that night.

After Peter sees him to the door, he peeks his head outside, watching his friend walk down the hallway. He goes back inside his apartment and leans against the door as he closes it. Smiling softly to himself, Peter takes a moment to appreciate Wade’s concern for him, but this soon turns into regret. He doesn’t want to drag Wade into his issues, but has ended up doing just that by keeping him at a distance.

Later that evening, Wade and Peter continue their patrol, which is a lot more like walking around central park than it is actually patrolling. There don’t seem to be many people out and none of them seem suspicious, until they heard some raised voices down one of the paths. Following the sound, they spot two teens bullying a kid, teasing him and shoving at him.

“You got this,” Peter says, sitting down gingerly on a bench nearby.

“What!?”

“You got this.”

Wade wants to argue with him, but decides to save it for after he scares away the bullies. Managing to do just that and accidently scaring off the one being bullied in the other direction, Wade walks back over to Peter, demanding to know why he didn’t even try to help out.

“You said I could sit it out if I wanted to.”

“Yeah, if it’s too risqué while you’re in this whole,” Wade waves his hands around Peter’s face, “distracted mode. I didn’t mean sit out easy pickings like this. If anything, you might not have sent the victim crying like I did.”

Peter snorts out a laugh as he lifts his mask slightly. “Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have approached them while running and screaming.”

“It’s quick and effective.”

Wade watches Peter’s half-smile fade; it concerns him. “Hey, I’ll grab us some food. Meet you on top of the Daily Bugle?”

Peter agrees even though he knows this tactic. If they’re meeting on top of the Daily Bugle, that means they’re going to be having a serious chat.

_And with Wade as tactless as he is, it will most likely be me bringing all the conversation._

Trudging towards the building that was once the bane of his existence early in his superhero career, Peter mentally prepares for Wade to hear about his dirty laundry again.

As soon as Wade shows up with a bag of fast food, he sits down next to Peter, holding the bag just out of his reach. Both men unmask themselves then sit in silence for a few moments.

“Okay, Petey. Spill. You’ve been moping since damn near Christmas. What happened?”

“I uh… I might have gone on a little trip—”

“You might have, or—”

“Fine, fine. I went on a trip. And while I was away, I did a lot of thinking, and I thought I finally figured out what I wanted in life. So, when I came back, I decided to do what it takes to achieve that. I tried to get my act together, you know, clean the apartment, get new clothes, do some crunches and—”

“If you can only do one, is it just called a crunch?”

“I did up to five, thank you very much!”

“But could you get up after that?”

“That’s not the point!”

Wade chuckles, finally bringing the to-go bag back into range, pulling out a small cup of fries.

Peter takes two, munching on them as he continues. “After a while, I felt like I was ready to face MJ again.”

Wade’s hand stills halfway to the food as he feels his heart drop in his chest.

“So I bought some flowers, went to her house, and it turns out I couldn’t have picked a worse time to show up?”

“W-why’s that?” Wade hates how weak his voice sounds.

“She was in the middle of her engagement party.” Peter reaches over and grabs a burger out of the bag.

“Wow. That must have sucked.” Wade briefly ponders if Peter felt the same way then that Wade does now. “I didn’t know you still loved her.”

“I—well—I don’t—hmm…” Peter takes a bite of his burger, glancing over at Wade who’s looking at him expectantly. He swallows it down a bit too quickly. “It’s not like I’m upset that she’s moved on since the divorce while I’m still in love with her. This isn’t some sort of soap opera. I mean, fine, okay, stop giving me that face. I am a little upset that she’s moved on but only because it makes me feel… feel like I’ve been left behind.”

“Like she doesn’t need you anymore?” Wade asks carefully.

“Oh, I already know she doesn’t. I mean left behind in life, not her leaving me behind specifically. Like that… you ever worry that the universe wants you to be all alone forever?”

Wade widens his eyes and slowly nods. “Oh yeah, all the time.”

“That. That’s the feeling I’m talking about. Like while I was being all depressed after the divorce and then took my time getting back on my feet, everyone else had moved on with their lives. It’s just… it’s jarring to realize that the world keeps going while you’re stuck in a rut for so long. And I never quite got over that. But finding out about MJ’s engagement in that manner, it knocked me off my feet all over again.”

They eat in silence, Wade mulling over everything Peter has said. He tries to piece it together, tries to figure out how Peter went from complacent to depressed over a supposedly resolved issue so quickly. After not being able to draw conclusions on his own, he says, “I’m still a bit confused. I mean, the divorce was years ago, so what brought this about?” Wade perks up and snaps his fingers. “I know! Was it because of the holidays? All that lovey-dovey true-love-wins Hallmark nonsense got you down? Dude! You should have called me instead of hiding out or _avoiding my messages!_ ”

“It wasn’t that. I, uh, I was…” Peter ponders for a moment, thinking that he shouldn’t tell Wade about the multiverse, believing he wouldn’t understand. “I was out of town then…”

“Well, if anything, it seems like you’ve started moving on yourself. I mean, you took your time to try to get your act together, even if the reasons kinda dudded out in the end. But don’t let it go to waste. Use it to keep healing. Maybe just take some time to yourself, figure out what you really want, and who knows, maybe you might find someone during all that, someone who vibes with you completely.”

“ _Vibes_?”

“You know, someone who wants the same things you want in life without making you go through an existential crisis like this.”

“Why couldn’t you say that the first time?”

“That’s not my vibe.”

Peter groans and shakes his head, but a smile is playing at his lips. They continue to eat on the rooftop while making a game plan for Peter which mainly involves more patrols and junk food with Wade.

The two start patrolling together every other day, and though Peter is starting to feel better thanks to being on some sort of routine, he can tell he’s still not completely back to normal. Wade also notices this on the most recent beat. Spidey had managed to catch two would-be crooks with just one shot of webbing, but he acted as if he was bored by it. When Wade realizes that no amount of celebration would motivate Peter, he grabs him by the hand and drags him towards an empty alley. He rips off his mask and starts tugging at Peter’s, noting the way he doesn’t even resist.

_Is he really that out of it?_

Once unmasked, Peter simply stares at him while half-heartedly trying to fix his hair.

“Be honest. Are you still stressing about being alone?”

Peter tears his gaze away, not wanting to lie to Wade.

“That’s it!” Wade shoves Spider-Man’s mask back into Peter’s hand. “Go home. Get changed. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“What for?”

“Just do it.”

Half an hour later, Peter finds himself sliding into a booth of some small late-night diner. When Wade asks him if he knows what he wants, he simply replies with, “Whatever.”

This infuriates Wade who struggles not to show it as he orders for the both of them.

Wade knows how badly a divorce can break your heart and make you lose hope in finding someone new. He’s been there and he'd seen the signs before Peter and MJ split. But to see Peter this sad so many years later, all because of an ex’s re-engagement, it makes him feel enraged on Peter’s behalf.

_I would never let you feel this way, at least not for long. I know you guys had your problems, but all that stuff wouldn’t have been an issue with me. I mean, I don’t know for certain, we’d probably still fight about it, but I do know that at the end of the day I wouldn’t have let you go. If you had married me instead of MJ—_

Wade’s thoughts are interrupted when the waitress shows up with their food. Wade thanks the lady and looks back at Peter’s sad, tired eyes. Without much thought, he snatches the plate away from him.

Peter, who was just about to grab the burger off the plate, slowly lowers his hands to the table. “Wade. What are you doing?”

“Marry me.”

“W-what!?”

“Marry me.”

Peter rolls his eyes and reaches for the plate, causing Wade to extend his arm away from the table, holding Peter’s food above the walkway.

“Just give me back—”

“I’m serious, Peter. If you’re still single by the time you’re forty, we should get married.”

“So the second I turn forty, you want to—”

“Okay, fine, maybe not get married that day, but at least get engaged, maybe tie the knot in like a month or two. That should be long enough to throw a small courthouse ceremony if you want.”

“And what if you’re not single by then?”

“Impossible!” When Peter gives him a disbelieving look, Wade continues. “I fully intend on marrying you once you hit forty. I’ll drop everything and do that. I swear!”

Peter rolls his eyes and tries to reach for the plate again. Wade intercepts him by sticking his free hand out for a shake. “Do we have a deal?”

Peter looks between the plate and Wade’s hand, and once he decides that playing along with Wade’s silly game is worth getting his food back, he shakes his hand. “Deal.”

Wade scrambles to clasp his other hand over Peter’s, dropping the plate in the process. Peter snatches his hand back to cover his face when Wade starts shouting about a second order for his ‘future fiancé.’

_Why does he have to go so far with the jokes? It’s not like anyone really follows through with marriage pacts, do they? I mean, me and MJ did have—_

_Oh. Oh right._

_So does he—_

Peter peeks through his hands as Wade apologizes profusely to the waitress, promising her a large tip in return for the mess. He wants to question how serious Wade is before convincing himself that he’s probably just joking around like usual. But as the waitress brings him another meal, Peter struggles against the voice in the back of his head, the one telling him that this might not be a joke. He hastily takes a bite, far too large, of his hamburger as if a fuller mouth will result in an emptier head.

Over the next few weeks, Wade stops by Peter’s place to check on him between patrols. He knows how Peter can get during his depressive episodes, so he tries to remind Peter to shower, eat, and just take care of himself in general, all while trying not to cross the line of sounding too pushy. However, this becomes harder and harder for Wade to do. Each time Wade asks him about food, if he needs something, or anything involving a choice, Peter is always dismissive, saying ‘whatever’ or something to that effect.

Wade decides to utilize a different tactic, sneaking into Peter’s apartment while in full gear to ask him if he wants to patrol on a night when they haven’t planned to go. Peter gives him an unamused stare as Wade ungracefully falls into the apartment from the window. Unfazed, Wade jumps up and dusts himself off.

“Think you’re up for doing some rounds tonight?”

Peter sighs and slowly gets up off the couch. “Whatever you want.”

Wade takes in a deep breath through his nose before shouting. “I want you to do something for yourself!”

Peter looks back at him, startled.

“I know being alone sucks, I do. Do you think I get to spend a lot of time with people with this face? You know how long I’ve been single, been living alone, so trust me when I say it will only get better if you allow it to get better. If you dwell in your loneliness and focus on only that, you’re gonna miss out on chances to enjoy the world around you. So I don’t want to hear anymore of this ‘Whatever you want’ bullshit. I want to hear what _you_ want, something _you_ decide so you can get some fucking control over your life and maybe start enjoying it again. You owe that much to yourself.”

Peter opens and closes his mouth a few times, unsure of how to respond. At first, he’s mad at Wade, believing that he is going to dismiss Peter’s feelings because he himself is lonely too. But as Wade speaks, Peter realizes that Wade has a point. He has been so deep in his depression that, at some points, he even decided against things he’d once enjoyed doing, believing he didn’t deserve them.

“So what do _you_ want to do tonight? Patrol or…”

Peter thinks for a minute before looking back at the couch. “It’s still a little early. Want to stay and watch some TV?”

Peter grins, gesturing to the couch. Wade squeals, darting over to the sofa but suddenly stopping, trying to strip out of just enough tactical gear to sit comfortably. As he struggles to find a place for his magazine belt, he asks, “What are we watching?”

“Oh, whatever you—”

“WE JUST TALKED ABOUT THIS, PETEY!”

Peter sits up straight and raises his hands in defense. “I swear, I meant it this time! I wasn’t being apathetic. I genuinely want you to decide since you’re the guest here.”

Wade pulls off his mask to squint at him. Then he checks his watch, eyes darting back toward Peter repeatedly. “ _Columbo_ should be on right now.”

Lowering his arms, Peter grabs the remote and finds the show. Wade sits down, putting one arm across the back of the couch just behind Peter. Around the time Columbo trips up his second suspect, Peter says, “I know something else I want.”

Wade hums in response, a little too absorbed in the show.

“I want to eat pizza and get drunk tomorrow.”

Wade takes a moment to register the words before glancing over at Peter. “Am I invited?”

“I thought that was assumed.”

The next night, Wade shows up with two pizzas and some buffalo wings, placing all the boxes on top of Peter’s stove. He pulls out a slice before turning back to Peter, expecting him to hand him a beer like he usually does on their pizza nights. Instead, he sees Peter struggling to open a bottle of wine. He slowly eats his slice, struggling to get it into his mouth since his eyes are completely focused on Peter. As Peter works the cork out of the bottle, Wade asks about the wine.

“Oh! I, uh, bought this for when I went over to MJ’s place. It’s been sitting on my counter since then. Figure we—THERE WE GO! Figured we could drink it tonight.”

While Peter pours a glass for Wade, he struggles to ignore the uncomfortable feeling building in his chest. He swirls the wine in the glass and mumbles, “I thought MJ didn’t drink.”

“She just says that so people won’t bug her about it. She does drink, but rarely. We actually used to have wine nights once in a blue moon. You know, to feel all upper class and fancy, even if we were just having it with supermarket rotisserie chicken.”

“Ah, so this is something you did with MJ.”

Wade knows he’s said the wrong thing when Peter’s hand jerks, causing him to splash a little wine on the counter. He sets the bottle down, hard, and reaches for the paper towels.

“Does it have to be? Does everything I’ve ever done with her now have to be a _thing_? Because if so, that just ruins everything. I lived my life with her, so that’s literally everything. Can’t I just do something because I want to and it just so happens to be something I’ve done with MJ, too? You told me to do something for myself, and this is what I wanted to do. To get fat and drunk… with you…”

Peter trails off, suddenly feeling the need to apologize for his outburst. Wade places his half-eaten pizza and his wine on top of the boxes and grabs the paper towels from Peter, hurriedly cleaning up the counter and the side of the glass. He tops it off before handing it to Peter, gesturing for him to go sit on the couch. Grabbing his own meal and the top pizza box, he follows after Peter, settling in next to him.

“Wade, I—”

“Your feelings are perfectly valid. I guess I thought you were still hung up on her. I mean, you did try to show up on her doorstep to win her back and all.”

“I know, I know. It doesn’t help that I tried to do something as foolish as showing up after three years.” Peter downs half his glass, grimacing at the tannins. “To be honest, I’m not so much upset that she moved on as I am that I couldn’t. I… while I was gone… I realized that I did like the idea of having a wife and kids and all that other nuclear home stuff. But now I can’t, at least not with her. And I know I’m in the wrong for assuming that she’d wait around for me to get my act together. That’s why we got a divorce in the first place. Why would she still be waiting after that?”

Wade hums softly before asking, “So none of this is about losing MJ for good?”

“I’m more upset about still being alone than I am about losing MJ. Don’t get me wrong, that’s upsetting in and of itself, but I’m also happy for her, to see her smiling like that again. But it also confuses me and makes me feel awful.”

Peter takes another sip before setting his glass down; he then places a hand gingerly on Wade’s knee.

“I know I’ve been moody, and I’m sorry for that, but please stop assuming that it’s because of MJ. It’s not. It’s because of me. I’ve been too laid back all my life, just goofing off or going with the flow, and I’ve been too chicken in the parks where it really mattered. I did that for _twenty years_. Look what I have to show for it: a dad bod but as a bachelor. I mean, just look at that!” Peter points to the stack of papers on the side of the coffee table not covered by a pizza box. “Proof that everyone else is moving on with their lives, getting married, having kids, doing all that family stuff, and here I am just… left behind. So, no, it’s not about MJ; it’s about me fully facing the reality she helped bring to light.”

Wade picks up the stack of papers and starts shuffling through them. “Wow. I mean, except for a funeral program and a couple of coupons, this is all—”

“I’m so sick of wedding invites and baby showers, Wade.”

“I don’t blame you. There’re two separate showers for twins, how fucking greedy. And good grief, I just realized two of these weddings are back to back. Aw, there’s an adoption day invite, well, that’s just precious.”

“It really is, which is why I feel like such a butt for being this way, but I’m just so tired.”

“I believe you. You seem to be booked for the next three years. Just here you have a ‘Save the Date’ for a Paul, a Gwen, a Mary Ja—Oh. Oh wow. Petey.”

“Yeah, she sent me that about a week or two ago. I’m watching her get the life she’s always wanted while I’m stuck here, and I don’t even really know what I want. I think it would be nice to have someone to lay down next to, to share meals with, to joke around with and go through struggles with. That person that keeps you honest but also makes you feel like you can do anything. But it’s not like I can pick up a spouse from the supermarket when I go grab groceries. And there was so much else she wanted too. I never really thought about those things. Does that mean I didn’t care enough about my own life until now?”

“Might just mean you have simpler interests in life. Some people focus on material possessions they want to obtain, others have a dream home they obsess about, some are very family-orientated. You’re just more content with what you have and not one to stress about certain details.” Wade finally takes a sip of his wine, cringing a little. He rushes to get the bottle from the kitchen. “Though you might want to be a bit more concerned about the details when you pick out wine. The hell is a ‘red blend,’ some sort of wine bastard child?”

Peter snorts out a laugh and gestures for Wade to bring the bottle. “Sorry for killing the mood.”

“Man, sometimes you gotta bitch it out to kill the mood in here,” Wade says, briefly laying a hand over Peter’s heart. “I can understand how this kind of stuff gets to you. And it will keep eating away at you if you keep it all bottled up. So don’t. Hell, if you randomly get pissed at three in the morning about having to go to some baby shower for someone’s sixth offspring, call me. Bitch all you want. Rage! Fuck it, I’ll even go to the store with you when you get gifts and talk shit about their registry.”

Peter starts chuckling hard, and Wade realizes this is the first time he’s heard a genuine laugh from him all year. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Peter says, “You know what, I might actually like that.”

Wade opens the pizza box handing over a slice to Peter before grabbing another one for himself. He then grabs the stack of invites back off the table and turns to sit sideways on the couch, swinging legs up and over so they rest across Peter’s lap. He peeks up past the papers to see Peter’s reaction, counting the seconds until Peter tells him to cut it out, but he doesn’t. Instead, he settles back further into the couch and rests his free arm on top of Wade’s legs. He glances over at Wade, making eye contact, before taking a bite of his pizza.

“So, which registry do you want to make fun of first?”

Wade places the invites on his lap, shuffling through them quickly, a few falling to the floor. “This one! The one where there’s two separate baby showers because she’s having twins! I want to see just how much more pretentious she can get. Oh wait! These people are getting married on the Fourth of July!? Oh-ho-ho, I need to see that one. Wonder if it’s just all flags and fireworks and guns.”

Peter leans over and takes the card from Wade. “Target. Hm. You free tomorrow?”

The next day, Wade meets up with Peter at the local Target, heading straight for the registry booth. They struggle to print out the registry for the would-be couple when a sales associate walks up, asking if they need help. Wade immediately says they’re trying to register for their baby shower, and Peter struggles to cut him off, apologizing for Wade while also explaining what they’re really attempting to do. Once the registry is printed, Peter snatches it from Wade, walking off in a huff.

Wade catches up, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “Ah, what’s wrong, Petey Pie? Want to register for our shower somewhere else?”

Peter gives a failed attempt at shoving Wade off him. “You have such a bad habit of always pretending to be a love-struck couple and confusing employees.”

Puckering up while scratching Peter under his chin, Wade coos, “Don’t worry. I’ll break that habit before we’re married. I got, what, four years give or take?”

“Two.”

“What?”

“Less than two.”

“Wait… you’re thirty-eight?”

Peter stops walking and spins to face Wade. “How did you not know that? We’ve been besties since—”

“I did, I do. I just… got my math wrong, that’s all. I swear.”

Peter gives him a skeptical look while he continues to look for the home décor section. Wade meanwhile, falls behind a few steps, lost in his own thoughts.

_He’s thirty-eight. He’s fucking thirty-eight already. And his birthday—I got a year and a half. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck. Shit! I thought I had fucking time to win him over and properly woo him before popping the question for real. But now I only have a year to catch his eye for real? Fuck!_

After realizing the registry list is ‘painfully normal’, as Wade calls it, the two men decide to head out for lunch after Peter purchases three of the same toasters, all for upcoming weddings. Peter spends most of the time thinking about what kinds of items he would register which soon turn into thoughts of the ridiculous items Wade would want. Meanwhile, Wade is still stressing over the fact that Peter will be forty soon and starts wondering if he should try to sneak in a few more dates.

The next month, Wade spots an advertisement for the ‘Flashback Film Series’ at the local cinema. He sees that they just missed _Gone with the Wind_ , but playing that weekend is _Top Gun_.

_Hell, if he doesn’t want to go with me, I’ll just watch the damn birdie myself._

That evening, Wade meets Peter at a local pub for a drink. It only takes him a few minutes before he blurts out, “What are your weekend plans?”

“I really need to clear out that spare room. I had thought about doing it tomorrow. Why?”

“Oh, well… do you need help with that.”

Shaking his head, Peter takes another swig of his porter. “Nah. Besides, you’ll probably be a distraction… well… I actually don’t think I’d mind that, so sure.”

Peter grins at him because of the taunt, but Wade’s too focused on Peter’s smile to care.

The next morning, Peter makes a full pot of coffee for Wade, who hasn’t stopped yawning since entering Peter’s apartment through the window. Wade cradles a mug in his hand, gently blowing on it, as he follows Peter towards the back room.

“So what’s the plan?”

“I’m going through some of MJ’s stuff, well, some of it was _our_ stuff. Either way, it needs to be trashed, donated, or given back, so I can clear up some space.”

Wade eyes him over the mug before taking a small sip, immediately burning his tongue. “Shit. Sorry. Anyways, what brought this on?”

“That ‘save the date’ card. I’ve thought about clearing this room in general, but between Aunt May’s deathiversary and that card, I figured I should stop thinking about it and actually do it.”

Wade nods, taking a sip while watching Peter pull out two boxes. Wade gets put in charge of bagging all the trash and dividing the donation pile into destination groups. It’s a simple task, especially since he’s so disconnected to the items, but Wade can’t help but to feel uneasy since many of the items belonged to Peter’s ex-wife.

Before they manage to clear out one box, Peter asks, “Do you think you can be free tonight at seven?”

“For you? Sure. But why?”

“I heard _Top Gun_ is playing. Figured you want to go.”

Wade nearly falls over trying to turn towards Peter while still kneeling on the floor. “ _Really!?_ ”

Peter glances up at him and shrugs. “Yeah. Surprised you haven’t brought it up already. You of all people would be on top of that. So do you wanna-”

“I’ll be there at seven! No, six-thirty! No, six, but here! We can walk together!”

Peter stares at him blankly before breathing out a laugh. “Fine. Sounds good to me.”

When Wade finds himself distracted with thoughts of how this is their first movie date, though he refuses to tell Peter that, he ends up mixing up a few of the items, needing to ask Peter about each one. The behavior continues until Wade starts playing around with a few items in the donation pile, proving Peter right about Wade being a distraction. However, Peter doesn’t mind that they barely manage to sort through two boxes before it’s time for the movie. Clearing out the room is not his only goal; he also wants to spend some more time with the man who’s waited on him through his depressive funk. He only hopes that covering for the movies tonight will be a good start to paying him back for his kindness.


	2. Summer: Wedding Season

After watching _Top Gun_ with Wade that week, Peter ends up going to the movies with him every Friday. If they are not interested in the movie that’s playing for the ‘Flashback Film Series,’ they go see whatever blockbuster is playing that weekend. Because this happens without fail for a period of several weeks, Wade is taken aback when Peter bails on him one Friday, with little warning or excuse given in a short five-word text sent half an hour before the start of the film.

Fearing that Peter might be in another depressive slump, Wade decides to go check on him the next night, coming in uninvited through his bedroom window. Peter sits up in bed, grabbing his pillow from behind him and wielding it like a bat.

“W-Wade!? You can’t keep doing that!”

“Why? Were you masturbating or something?”

Wade grins at the way Peter becomes flushed. “Actually, I was trying to nap. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

The smile falters on Wade’s face. “Are you okay?”

With a short sniffle, Peter mumbles, “Just a summer cold. I actually feel a little better now, but it was rough last night. That’s why I—Hey! Woah! What are you—”

Wade fights past a hand in order to lay his own against Peter’s forehead. Once he makes contact, Peter stops struggling. Wade turns his wrist so he can use the back of his hand to check Peter’s temperature. Mimicking a move his mother once did when she was alive, Wade then presses his forehead against Peter’s, frowning a little when he realizes Peter now feels even warmer than before.

As Wade stands upright, he glances off to the side, trying to remember what’s more sensitive to temperature, the hand or the forehead. Peter examines the concentrated look on Wade’s face, how his brow furrows and his lips purse. Slowly, he places a hand over his chest, trying to convince his heart to calm down.

“Uh, no fever, right?”

“No. I don’t think so. A little warm but nothing to worry over.”

Peter nods before grabbing his phone, checking a few things. He steals glances at Wade who is now awkwardly pacing the room, struggling to find something to do since he only came over to check on Peter and had no plans for what to do after that.

“Hey, I got some errands to run.”

“Oh. Oh! Okay, then.” Wade gestures to the window. “I’ll just go and—”

“But do you want to catch a movie tomorrow since we couldn’t—”

“Really!? Yeah. Sure! I’ll just… Or you can—”

“Pick something out and just text me later, okay?”

Wade gives a salute before darting across the room. He ignores Peter’s protests when he slips out the window again, only shutting it halfway once he’s through. Peter gets out of bed and peers down at Wade, shaking his head when he sees him skipping off down the street.

A few days after the movies, Peter is itching to work out. He tries to do a few crunches and push-ups, but feels like it’s not cutting it.

_Patrolling. That’s what I should do. That’s a full body workout… unless there is nothing going on that night… but at least I’m walking around and stuff._

Peter suits up and heads to a nearby rooftop. He paces a little before becoming bored, so he decides to text Wade, asking him if he’s free to join that night too.

Wade’s laying on his floor in his boxers when he hears his phone ping. He grumbles, knowing he’ll have to get up to retrieve it since he left the damn thing on the couch before sliding off while playing video games. He half-crawls back onto the couch, stretching an arm out to swat at the phone. After a little more effort, he manages to get a hold of it, immediately jumping to his feet upon reading the text.

_Shit. Petey wants to patrol! It’s the first time he’s been the one to initiate a patrol since… wow… guess he’s out of his funk._

Wade types most of his reply out, but ends up deleting it all, opting to call Peter instead as he grabs his gear.

Peter hears his phone go off, but he’s so close to hitting one dozen crunches, that he doesn’t want to stop. By the time he struggles through the last five, the phone quits ringing. He waits for the voicemail ping as he lays flat on his back, one hand resting on his sore stomach. Luckily, the phone rings again. Peter rolls onto his side and reaches out for the device he left on the air duct. He answers the call but doesn’t have time to put it to his ear when Wade starts shouting.

“Petey Pie! You wanna patrol? When? Where? Where are you? I can—”

“Chill, Wade. I’m on top of the library. Wait… why are you breathing like that?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Are you running?”

“Uh, no, why would I be—” Peter hears a loud thump and Wade weaving a long string of profanity before continuing his previous statement. “Why would I be running?”

Peter peers over the edge of the building as he asks Wade over and over again if he’s _sure_ he’s not rushing, always receiving a denial in response. It’s not long before Peter spots Wade down the street, running full force while trying to strap on the rest of his gear.

“Hey, I think you dropped a gun,” Peter shouts from the rooftop.

Wade stops and turns around. “Where? I don’t see—” Wade spins back towards the library so fast Peter starts choking on his laughter. “How long have you been spying on me!?”

It takes Peter a moment to compose himself before telling Wade that they’re in no hurry, so he should just take his time. Peter hangs up and rushes to get through the dozen pushups he also wanted to do before Wade arrived. By the time he’s on the third to last one, Wade is already climbing over the edge of the roof, stumbling to stand upright and panting hard. He tilts his head to watch Peter finish the last two, resisting the urge to correct his form.

“So, uh, whatcha doing there? Patrolling the ants?”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Peter rolls onto his hip and grunts as he tries to move into a seated position from there. “I’m actually trying to get my Spidey-body back.” He punctuates his statement with two taps to his belly.

“Considering you’re Spidey and that’s your body, looks like you already have a Spidey-body.”

“Wow. Is that something you learned in a yoga class?”

Wade rolls his eyes under his mask. “Fine. If you really want to get in shape, I’m really going to push you. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“On patrol, of course. But we’re talking _my_ route.”

Wade leads them towards a part of town with hills and layered lawns, which means Peter has to take more stairs and climb more than he usually does during a patrol. After a few hours and him realizing they are just wandering around and not actually patrolling, Peter suggests they take a little break. They make their way up to a nearby rooftop, Peter kind of dragging behind a little at this point, and then they sit down on the ledge. Both remove their masks to cool off, joking about how sweaty and gross they feel even on a night with zero crime happening. As the conversation dies down, Wade looks over at Peter who has his head tilted towards the sky with his eyes closed, feeling the night breeze against his face. He glances down at Peter’s stomach and thighs.

_Yeah, okay, he’s not really fit compared to when he first met years ago. But that doesn’t mean he’s not still attractive. I’d cuddle the shit out of him as is if I wasn’t worried about his superstrength sending me through the wall and into next year._

Wade is pulled from his thoughts when Peter’s hands move, picking at his grey sweatpants.

“I know it’s going to take a while but I at least want to dress like Spider-Man again, not look like some knock-off Halloween costume where I forgot to buy the bottoms.”

“Psh! Whatever. I like the sweatpants. It makes you more relatable, shows that you’re just an average guy.”

“I don’t mind looking like that when I’m Peter, but when I’m Spidey, I kinda want to look like a hero.”

Wade wants to tell Peter he always looks like that, but feels himself cringing at the thought.

_I know I flirt with him all the time, but I don’t have to go full sap just yet. Even I think that’s too much._

The following Friday, Wade calls Peter twice to ask about the movies, but both times he is sent straight to voicemail. Worrying that Peter might have fallen ill again, Wade rushes over to his house and climbs in through the window like usual. He rolls onto the floor just in time to see Peter peeling off a suit jacket.

“What’s the special occasion?”

Peter breathes out heavily through his nose instead of bringing up the window issue. “I was at a wedding.”

Peter starts uncuffing his shirt as he pads towards the bedroom.

“I didn’t know you had a wedding to go to today. Was it one of the ones you bought a toaster for?” Wade yells after him.

“Yup. The second one actually. The third toaster wedding is in two weeks.”

Wade thinks about the phrase ‘toaster wedding’, coming up with a mental image of kitchen appliances all gathered in a cathedral. When his imagination reaches the point of the toaster reception, he asks Peter, “Did you do a lot of dancing?”

“I left halfway through the reception, so no,” Peter replies as he steps out of his bedroom in streetwear.

“Aw, but you did some before you left right?”

Peter scoffs. “I don’t dance.”

“Dude! That’s the best part of the wedding! You throw back a couple and let loose on the dance floor! It’s honestly the only reason to even have a reception.”

“Yeah, but I’m not much of a dancer. You ready to go?” When Wade gives him a confused look, Peter jingles his keys and says, “To the movies. It’s Friday so I thought—”

“Oh, right! Yeah!” Wade rushes to catch up with Peter, making a joke about how it’s weird to use the front door like this.

Two Saturdays later, Peter finds himself sitting in a reception hall for another wedding. He had meant to attend the ceremony, drop the gift off during the reception, have some free food and booze, then leave. He thought that would be more than enough, to show his face since he doesn’t consider himself close to the bridal party. However, the fact that the bride is the granddaughter of Aunt May’s best friend seems to be a big deal to everyone else. At the reception, Peter ends up taking numerous photos with family friends, getting pulled into several conversations with people he hasn’t seen since Aunt May passed, and even getting dragged to the dance floor by a persistent seven-year-old whose tiny white sandals are not kind to the tops of his dress shoes. By the end of the reception, he’s surrounded by the part of the bridal family who all have kids under ten years of age, and he doesn’t like how it’s impacting his mood.

Peter grabs a taxi home, nearly falling asleep from exhaustion during the drive. He only wakes up when Wade calls him, asking if he’d like to come over to hang out. Peter agrees and tells the taxi driver the new destination.

“So, how was the wedding?” Wade asks as he opens the door.

Peter shrugs as he works on undoing the top two buttons of his dress shirt after removing his tie in the taxi. “It was a wedding.”

Wade goes through his cabinets to find some snacks as they get set up for an impromptu night of B-grade comedy films. It doesn’t take long into the first movie for Wade to realize that Peter is feeling a little down, having not laughed once or even touched the snack bowl for that matter. Wade grabs the remote and pauses their movie.

“Something happen at the wedding?”

Peter turns his head slowly and stares at Wade wide-eyed.

“Come on, man. This is peak 90’s comedy. You’d usually be giggling like a school girl by now. Something had to have happened.” When Peter doesn’t respond, Wade adds, “Just treat this like the Daily Bugle rooftop. Don’t keep it all bottled up.”

It only takes a few seconds for Peter to blurt out, “There were so many kids there. Like, small kids that still needed help getting around and clung to their parents and were just acting all cute and innocent and I just… I don’t know, it just got to me. One of the reasons I went back to MJ was because I realized it might not be that bad to have a kid. But it’s not like I’m going to be having a kid anytime soon when I’m stuck as a bachelor. And depending on how long I stay this way, I might not be able to ever have kids.”

“You say that like adoption or fostering is not an option. Have you ever considered that? Was that something you and MJ even talked about?”

“Honestly, no. She seemed to want to have a kid of her own and I… well… I never really thought of that myself since I barely realized I even wanted kids until now.”

Wade groans and throws his head back on the couch. “Then why are you stressing yourself out so much! It’s like since you’ve decided that you _might_ want kids, you feel the need to go and pop one out _right now_. Raising children is not a quick and easy choice to make, especially in your position. You need to take your time, consider all the possibilities, and when you do find someone to share your life with, _which I know you will_ , you can talk about your options together. But you still have some time before then.”

Peter mulls over Wade’s words for a moment before nodding slowly. “You’re right. You’re exactly right. I’m pre-stressing. I think I’m just letting all these weddings and baby showers get to me. It’s bad enough I feel behind as is because of my age, but all these celebratory events are just rubbing it in my face.”

“It’s supposed to be a happy occasion when it just feels like a finger in your wound.”

“Exactly!”

“So… maybe you should sit the next one out. Give your heart some time to heal.”

Peter nods in agreement until he remembers who the next wedding is for. “I can’t. It’s Gwen’s. Of all the ones I can’t bail on this summer, it’s hers.”

“Who’s Gwen again?”

“One of mine and MJ’s friends from college. We’re still pretty close.”

“Oh… so is MJ going to be there too?”

“Of course, they’re best friends. She’s actually one of the bridesmaids.”

Wade starts panicking internally. He rationalizes that if Peter is this mopey after just any old wedding, he might slip back into another depressive episode if he’s at a wedding with MJ present. He comes up with a plan on the spot, but hesitates to share it because the last thing he wants to do is force Peter to attend an additional wedding after all these others. But as Peter settles back into the couch, still looking down in the dumps, he decides to take a chance.

“I’ll go with you.”

“What?”

“I’ll go with you to the wedding. I don’t know if you can have a plus one, but I’ll crash it if I need to.”

“Wade, you don’t need to do—”

“No, no, no. It’s not like that. I actually need a favor from you. I’ll come with you to this wedding, and you’ll come with me to a wedding I have to attend.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. I could just go with you to yours without you having to—”

“It’s a mercenary wedding. Reception will be at Sister Margaret’s and everything. So the least I could do in return is—”

“Wow. I see.”

Peter pulls out his phone and Wade worries that he won’t take the deal. He watches anxiously as Peter starts typing away at his phone, resisting the urge to peek over at the screen each time it pings.

“Well, lucky for you, Gwen says one of her friends can’t make it so there’s an extra place setting—”

Wade lunges across the couch and embraces Peter. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He leans back just enough to grab the remote. As Wade presses the play button, he settles back in place but keeps one arm around Peter. Peter doesn’t let Wade’s arm stay there for long, pulling it up and over his head before reaching over for the snack bowl.

A month passes, and Wade shows up to Peter’s apartment wearing a new dress shirt, form-fitting black slacks, and a tartan print suit jacket that makes Peter want to ask Wade if he’d like to borrow one of Peter’s instead. He doesn’t though, not after the way Wade spins around while asking Peter if it looks good on him. Peter simply nods and leads the way to the church.

Wade spends the first half of the ceremony bored and regrets not having enough faith in Peter to get through it by himself. However, he soon notices Peter’s odd behaviour. He takes a moment to look back and forth between MJ and Peter. It doesn’t seem like MJ is looking anywhere else in the church, but he can tell that Peter is staring intently at the altar. His worry increases when he notices Peter bouncing one of his legs in place, wondering if this is a common nervous habit of Peters when dealing with anxiety. When Peter yawns then lightly taps his cheek twice, Wade finally catches on.

He leans over and whispers, “You falling asleep over there?”

Peter turns his head quickly, glaring at Wade before nodding slowly. Wade then reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a lemon WarHead, handing it to Peter.

“They still make these?”

Wade nods and gestures for Peter to eat it. “Trust me, it’ll wake you up.”

Peter knows it is a foolish plan, but he’s willing to try it if it means he won’t be known as the guy who snored during the wedding. As soon as the candy hits his tongue, Peter instantly wishes he was snoring instead. He doubles over in the pew and tries to subtly spit the candy out into his hand. Peter feels something knock against his right knee and peeks over to find Wade struggling hard not to laugh. He’s shaking with laughter, bouncing both legs as if silently stomping his feet. Both hands clasped so firmly over his mouth that Wade’s fingertips are digging into his cheeks. He stares wide-eyed at Peter before mouthing the words, ‘did it work?’

Peter sits up and glares at Wade while awkwardly holding the wet candy in his palm. He’s about to subtly scold Wade without drawing more attention than they probably already have, when Wade takes the WarHead and pops it into his own mouth. He immediately leans forward, gripping the pew in front of him and resting his head on his hands. It’s now Peter’s turn to struggle not to laugh as he watches Wade squirm in his seat. There is a person seated in front of them, sitting on Peter’s left. She looks over at Wade, and Peter immediately moves forward, trying to hide the larger man with his body as Peter puts an arm around him.

Peter turns to the lady and gives her a look of pity, saying, “He gets real choked up at weddings.”

He struggles not to make a sound when Wade stomps on his foot in retaliation. Peter lets it slide, deciding to keep up the act by rubbing and patting Wade’s back in a soothing manner. Soon, Wade lifts his head just enough to stare at Peter, gesturing with one finger for him to come closer.

Once Peter is within whispering range, Wade says, “I hope you know I love you. I wouldn’t take half-eaten sour candy for just anyone. Especially at a formal event.”

“I know. I know,” Peter replies softly, sitting back in the pew but keeping a hand on Wade’s back until he finally sits upright.

Once Wade regains his composure, Peter leans over and asks why Wade even ate the candy if he doesn’t like sour things either. Just then, the congregation starts cheering and clapping as the happy couple on the altar kiss.

Wade is grateful for the interruption since he doesn’t want to tell Peter the truth. He has been worried about Peter having another mopey moment if he spends too much time cooing over cute children and cuddly couples, so he thinks that maybe it won’t impact him as badly if the children aren’t acting cute the whole time.

_And what better way to have a ‘child’ act up if they get a piece of candy and find out the hard way that it’s sour._

After the meal at the reception, Wade and Peter are left alone at their table while the rest of the guests sitting there head to the dance floor. Wade watches the way Peter stares at everyone else enjoying themselves, but doesn’t seem to be enjoying the celebration himself.

“How you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” Peter mumbles before taking a sip of his wine.

“Are you actually fine or are you ‘I don’t really wanna talk about it now’ fine?”

“Honestly? I’m fine, I guess. But I’m also thinking about how _not fine_ I would have been if this wedding was about six months ago. So, I guess I’m not fine, but not in _that_ way of not fine? Just a ‘not fine’ because I’m thinking about how not fine I could have been.” Peter takes a deep breath as if he has forgotten to breathe while he was speaking.

“Woah, woah, woah. Take it easy there. No need to get meta on me.”

Peter lets out a soft laugh before mumbling out an apology.

“As long as you’re really okay right here, right now. That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”

“Awesome. Oh, hey, look over there.” Wade points to a kid laid out across two chairs over at the next table. He’s fast asleep with one arm dangling and his cheek squished into the seat of the chair. “Mood.”

Peter groans before finishing off his glass of wine. “Oh, hey, what about the mercenary wedding?”

Wade makes an uncomfortable face as he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, that got cancelled.” Where Peter quirks his brow, Wade continues. “Seems like one of them had a couple of targets… who ended up being the would-be in-laws.”

Peter gawks at Wade, too stunned to comment. Wade takes the opportunity to peck him on the cheek before running off to the dance floor.

For the next four songs, Peter watches Wade dance, spinning around random partners and working up a sweat in his own little world. When Wade cuts in and starts trying to dance with the stunned groom, Gwen slips away to chat with a few people on the edge of the dance floor. When she spots Peter, she makes a beeline for him. They both watch Wade silently for a few moments.

“Your friend over there is sorta charming. Peculiar as all get out, but still charming.”

Chuckling slightly, Peter reaches over to steal Wade’s wine glass. He watches Wade carefully as he takes a long sip. “Yeah. He’s one of a kind.”

As if Wade has heard him, he suddenly spins towards Peter, grinning wickedly. Peter feels himself starting to panic as Wade races towards him. Wade grabs his hand and drags Peter to the center of the room despite his protests. Deciding to humor Wade for a bit, Peter gives in and tries to dance. He feels a little embarrassed since he can tell his motions are not as fluid as Wades, especially after not moving his hips in such a manner for several years, but Wade’s wide grin and carefree attitude helps Peter let go and just enjoy the moment.

After the reception, the guests trickle out towards the parking lot while Wade and Peter take their time leaving, both too sore and tired to rush home.

“Hey, thanks for coming with me, especially since that mercenary wedding got called off.”

Wade wobbles his head towards Peter, the right side of his mouth pulled back into a half-smirk. “Whatever, man. You know me. I would have tagged along regardless.”

“Yeah. You’re right. And I’m glad you did. It was a lot more fun with you here.”

“Now you’re just trying to butter me up.” Wade elbows Peter gently.

“I’m serious! You’re always looking out for me and trying to make sure I’m enjoying life as much as possible. I really appreciate you.”

Wade just stares straight ahead, still not the best at taking compliments. He notices the wedding guests in front of them, realizing most of them are paired up just like him and Peter. He sees couples holding hands, some clinging to the arm of their significant other, and others cozying up to each other as they walk to the car. He pointedly tries to ignore one younger couple grinning like idiots and giving each other soft pecks as they stand behind a beat-up car like the world can’t see them sucking face. Wade’s eyes then land on a couple that looks a little older than him and Peter. They’re holding hands and walking slow. As they reach a turn in the sidewalk, the man puts his arm around his wife’s waist and steps closer, kissing the top of her head. Wade glances over at Peter and notices that he’s also staring at the older couple.

 _I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing as me… that he wishes he could be like them… that he wants_ us _to be like that._


	3. Autumn: Small Steps

One the first day in August, Peter attempts to go to the bank but is steered off course by an over-excited Wade. He spends three whole seconds trying to protest, but Wade is just too eager about something, so Peter lets himself be dragged away. He does try to ask what’s going on, but remains in the dark until he recognizes they’re enroute to Wade’s apartment. As they climb the stairs leading to Wade’s unit, he refuses to tell Peter why they’re here, though he swears it’s not ‘ _just_ to hang out.’

When Wade opens the door, he shoves Peter in first, flicking on the lights after him.

“SURPRISE!”

Peter gawks at what awaits within or at least the contents filling it since the room itself is mostly hidden. There are so many balloons covering the floor that Wade is struggling to kick them back inside and shut the door. He ignores Wade’s comments about how they should have used the window as he wades through the balloons to reach the closest wall, running his hand through the layers of streamers hanging over it. He looks over to where the couch should be, the streamers cut long enough on that wall to cover the furniture.

When Peter hears the door slam shut, he turns back to Wade and flinches as confetti is thrown in his face. He hastily tries to make sure none of it landed in his hair as he grumbles to Wade. “What was that about? What is _all this_ about?”

“It’s for your birthday!”

“Wade… my birthday is over a week away… so—”

“THAT’S WHAT MAKES IT A SURPRISE!” Wade exclaims, jazz hands at the ready. “Got one more thing for you. Come over here.”

Peter follows Wade towards the kitchen, trying his best to not pop balloons on the way, unlike Wade. He’s too focused on his feet that he doesn’t realize Wade has stopped and runs right into him. Wade takes the opportunity to turn and throw an arm around Peter as he uses his free hand to gesture at the stove. On top is an XL New York-style pizza with a handful of candles on it.

“I don’t think that’s enough candles,” Peter jokes.

“Actually, there’s three on that slice and nine on this one. And that’s as good as it’s going to get because I only had 14 candles in my junk drawer.”

Wade hurries to light the candles and starts singing the birthday song, giving it his own rendition that lasts long enough for all the candles to melt down to half their original size. Peter can feel himself flushing in embarrassment as he bends over to blow them out, picking up a wax-free slice as soon as he’s done. He takes a big bite before pulling Wade into a tight one-arm hug.

“What’s this about?”

Peter rushes to swallow. “Dude. You just threw me the most ridiculous birthday celebration. Thank you.”

Wade finally wraps his arms around Peter, hugging him back. His mind starts to wander, thinking about the marriage pact that’s coming up in a year, when he feels Peter moving his other arm, attempting to take another bite of his slice.

“Really couldn’t wait till after the hug?” Wade says, pulling back in a manner that keeps Peter’s arm away from his face, preventing him from eating.

“Nah. I’m hungry.”

Wade pats Peter on the stomach before ducking under his arm to grab all of the candles. He snags the box and leads Peter back into the living room, asking him to uncover the couch so they can both sit. After settling onto the couch, Wade hands Peter the remote, telling him that the birthday boy gets to decide the movie they’ll watch. Even though Peter feels a bit too old for it, he selects a Disney film, knowing that Wade enjoys them enough to sing their songs on patrol sometimes.

While they watch _Coco_ , Wade hands another slice of pizza to Peter who politely refuses. Wade pauses the film to ask who this imposter is.

“I’m just trying to lose weight, that’s all. It’s not like when I was younger and all I had to do was a little bit of hero work to counter all the calories I inhaled. I actually gotta be attentive to what I—mmph!”

Wade manages to silence Peter by folding the slice in half and stuffing it into his mouth. It earns Wade a scowl and a smack to the back of the head, but it’s worth it. After this little scuffle, Wade spends the rest of the movie constantly shifting positions to see how many ways he can touch Peter before getting scolded. He puts an arm around him, throws his legs across his lap, and leans up against him. Peter doesn’t say a word until Wade rests his head on Peter’s lap, telling him to get up so he doesn’t accidentally drop pizza onto Peter’s pants. Wade complies, sitting up so he can lounge back against the couch, keeping one leg pressed flush against Peter’s knee.

_Wade sure is getting comfortable with me, not that I mind much these days. It’s actually nice… makes me feel less alone…_

That less alone feeling helps Peter even more when Wade winds an arm around him during a scene later in the movie, one where both men have a silent agreement to never mention how hard the other one cried.

Two days later, Peter is drinking a beer and half-paying attention to a nature documentary when he hears his window open. He watches as Wade struggles to get in, nearly tumbling over but somehow managing to stick the landing. Wade glances up and stares wide-eyed at Peter, as if surprised to see him in his own home.

“Hey, Wade,” Peter calmly replies before taking a sip of his beer.

Wade notices the way Peter is dressed and the blazer on the arm of the sofa and says, “Please don’t tell me you had another wedding to go to.”

“Nah. I’m good till September, and even then, it’s just a courthouse ceremony.”

After running towards Peter, Wade suddenly spins, throws his arms to the side, and falls back into Peter as if doing one of those trust team-building activities. He dramatically lands half on Peter’s lap, who pushes him to the side just enough so he can see the TV again. One of Wade’s legs is still slung over Peter’s knee though, so he’s not wholly successful.

“So, if it wasn’t a wedding, why are you all spiffed up?”

“Adoption day celebration. Went to the courthouse to watch them legalize it, then we had a little party where we ate cake and the kid got to open presents. Basically, a birthday party but for a whole family.”

Wade knows he’s making weird cooing sounds that annoy Peter but the thought of throwing a little adoption party for a tiny kiddo in a courthouse seems cute to him. “So what did you get him? I would have gone with Legos. Great for the kid’s imagination and teaches _adult_ you a good lesson about watching where you step.”

“A Nike Giftcard. It wasn’t much but hopefully they can put it towards the shoes he wants for track.”

“Wait, track as in track team? Just how old is this kid?”

“15.” When Peter is met with silence, he downs the rest of his beers and repeats the same spiel he heard the adoptee’s mother give. “All kids in the system deserve a home, but it’s the older ones who are less likely to get one. Some places even deem kids above seven as ‘special needs’ just because they’re older and therefore less likely to get picked.”

Wade nods slowly, suddenly recalling his own brief stint in foster care. “Glad he found a family before aging out.”

“Right?”

Peter gets up to grab a beer for Wade, intending to continue watching his show about jellyfishes. However, Wade isn’t focused on the screen; he’s imagining what it would be like for Peter to adopt a teen. He pictures the ways he could work with the kid to pull some sort of prank that makes Peter groan and roll his eyes. He briefly thinks about which of the two of them would be the loudest parent in the stands during sporting events, then decides he’d be the victor. He even wonders how hard it would be to hide the fact that their dads are Deadpool and Spider-Man from the kid. It takes him much longer to realize how much of a role he’s playing in all these visions of Peter acting as a parent, his own role quickly going from a close family friend to that of a husband and a father figure.

Wade looks over at Peter, suddenly a little heartbroken. He wants to bring up their pact again, maybe talk to Peter about the prospects of getting married again, but he doesn’t think he can bear to hear any other response than the one he’s hoping for. He startles a little when Peter suddenly turns his head and quirks a brow at him.

“You okay there, buddy?”

Looking back to the television, Wade takes a large swig of his beer. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

_You sure don’t look fine to me._

Peter watches Wade for a moment, spotting him peeking back over at one point. He gently pats Wade’s knee, the one that’s still slung over his own leg, before letting his hand lightly rest there. “If you ever need to talk about anything, you know I’ll always be here for you.”

Wade wipes his hand roughly on his shirt, trying to get the condensation from the beer bottle off. He then gently taps the top of Peter’s hand as he mumbles, “I know,” yet thinks about how this is the one thing he isn’t ready to talk about.

\- - - - - - -

Since the first of the month, Peter decides to buckle down on his quest to get his Spidey-bod back. As much as he dreads it, he goes out jogging through central park every three days, mentally judging people who enjoy doing cardio. It’s been nearly three weeks, and Peter is still maintaining his routine, albeit reluctantly, as he trudges along a new path today.

Meanwhile, Wade is also jogging in central park. This is his favorite part of his workout routine because he’s not confined to a building and it requires no equipment besides good shoes and an ipod old enough to be a relic. As Wade picks up the pace thanks to Mumford & Sons, he spots someone familiar in the distance. His steps nearly in tempo with the banjo strumming in his ears, Wade catches up to Peter, slapping him playfully on the ass. With the way Peter flails his arms and nearly falls over trying to spin around and confront his attacker, Wade almost trips himself up trying to dodge while laughing.

“It’s just me! Sorry! Couldn’t resist.”

Peter bends over, holding himself up with his hands on his knees. “I’m already struggling to breathe as is, don’t need to scare the rest of the wind out of me.”

Wade grabs on his arm, forcing him to stand upright. “Come on, let’s go.”

As they walk, they talk about Peter’s new workout routine. Wade’s excited to help, but Peter is suddenly anxious about the thought that someone else is going to hold him accountable for exercising. Wade tries to encourage him, telling him there’s probably already been some improvement.

“I doubt it. I’ve been doing all this cardio, and I feel like my body hasn’t done a thing except ache.”

“Eh, it always hurts a little when you’re trying to get back into things. It shouldn’t persist though.”

“But it is. It’s just a constant ache. The other day, I was getting out of a taxi, and I realized—I—yeah, it was bad.”

“No, tell me. What did you—”

“Nothing! It was nothing at—”

“ _Tell me_!”

“Fine. I, uh… when I stepped out of the taxi, I kinda made the same sounds as one would in bed… but it wasn’t nowhere near as enjoyable.”

Wade stops in his tracks, unable to keep walking from all the laughter. He wheezes about what Peter just said and wipes a stray tear. As he catches his breath, his mind tries to supply that particular sound for him. That sobers Wade up pretty quickly, and he grabs Peter’s arm, steering him back down the path they were walking. In order to distract himself, he convinces Peter that their break is over, so they should start running again.

They jog side by side for about a quarter mile until Wade puts a hand on Peter’s back, pressing gently to encourage him to go a little faster.

“That’s not going to work, Wade.”

“You’re not going to get any better unless you push yourself a little.”

“I’m already pushing forty _and_ my lungs out of my ribcage, what more do you want me to push?”

“Come on, just a little faster. I know you got it in you.”

“Don’t think my body can do that.”

“I betcha it can if I’m buying drinks tonight.”

Peter gives him the side-eye before allowing Wade to shove him along just a little faster, each time mentally upping the quality of the drink he plans to get.

After the first round at the pub that night, Wade sneaks off to sign them up for trivia night. He has to convince the host that they don’t need a third person all while keeping an eye out for Peter’s return from the restroom.

When Peter exits the bathroom, he heads straight to the bar to pay for their next round so Wade doesn’t have to. However, when he gets back to the table, he finds that not only did Wade already order them more drinks, but there is a chalkboard and a stick of pink chalk waiting for him. Peter is about to ask Wade why, but the emcee interrupts with an announcement that trivia night is starting.

Peter frowns, causing Wade to think that he might have gone too far. He gives Wade a pitying look before saying, “I hope you’re ready to lose because I don’t know squat.”

Wade claps him on the shoulder, nudging a beer his way. “I’m fine with that as long as you’re having fun.”

Peter’s frown turns into a look of determination, and he takes a large swig of his drink before he grabs the piece of chalk. “Bring it on!”

Neither of them remember much of that trivia night, partly due to all the drinking since they went five rounds deep before the end of the competition. The other part is because of their strategy to come up with the most ridiculous answers for questions they didn’t know, causing them to be one of the rowdiest teams, constantly losing their composure to fits of giggles. Even with so many blatantly wrong answers, they still managed to place fourth thanks to all of their television and movie binging. The two things they do remember are their celebratory hug, where Wade kissed Peter on the cheek, and their agreement to continue competing in the seasonal tournament.

Three days later, Wade heads to Peter’s apartment so they can start watching a new television show together. They only make it through half of the first episode before the main protagonist removes his shirt, revealing a body far too fit for the lifestyle and occupation of that particular character.

Wade sees Peter moving to his left and looks over. Peter is focused on the screen but his hand is slowly inching towards his stomach. Wade tilts his head, wondering if Peter doesn’t realize he’s already lost a little weight.

_Peter’s acting like he hasn’t but maybe he just hasn’t noticed yet. Either way, he doesn’t need to stress. He’s fine; he doesn’t need to change, especially not if it’s only to be Spidey._

Wade glances back at the screen, looking for a way to cheer Peter up.

“That looks so fake. Is he oiled up? How is he slicked up like that when he was just wearing a plain cotton t-shirt? Is it made out of some kind of new oil resistant material? How the heck are we supposed to believe this dude’s a baker when he looks like he’s never even licked a carb before.”

With that last one, Peter chuckles slightly. “You have a point, but still, it would be nice to get back to that. Or at least halfway back to that.”

“Whatever. You’re perfectly fine as is.”

“Yeah, well, the people on those dating apps don’t think so.”

Wade feels his heart drop, trying his hardest not to look over at Peter as he asks “You’re on dating apps now?”

Peter shakes his head. “Nah. Not anymore. Didn’t even last a week. That mess is confusing and people are so _aggressive_. Between all the emojis and those illiterate weirdos asking for the weirdest things when my profile clearly states that I’m looking for a long-term relationship, I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Ah, so you’re just going to start dating the old fashioned way?”

“I mean, my version of that, sure.”

“And what’s that?”

“Wait around for it to happen.”

Wade snorts out a laugh as he glances over at Peter. He starts to press the topic but realizes why Peter said it in the first place.

_Unless he’s had little childhood girlfriends in grade school, MJ was the only one. He hasn’t had to think about dating since he was a teenager._

“Oh my—seriously!? Is everyone in that bakery a bodybuilder in training?”

Wade turns back to the television. “Dang. Wow. I know kneading dough is tough work, but I doubt it can get you cut like that.”

“Man, I don’t care about the arms that much. I just want to get my stomach a little flatter.”

“Hush. I like it. It’s like the perfect extra pillow.”

“Extra pillow?”

Without skipping a beat, Wade adjusts himself on the couch so he can lay on his side and use Peter’s lap as a pillow. He then purposely pushes his head back until it’s pressed against Peter’s stomach. “See? Extra pillow.”

Wade fully expects Peter to tell him to get the hell off of his lap, perhaps kick him off the couch altogether like he’s done a few times in the past. However, after a few long seconds, Peter simply sighs and says, “Glad you like it, I guess.”

Squirming to get more comfortable, Wade settles further into the beat-up couch, gently placing a hand on Peter’s knee in the process. He feels Peter rest his own hand on Wade’s shoulder.

Wade doesn’t like what this is doing to his heart. He knows he’s getting his hopes up and giving his imagination too much fuel, but he can’t help it. If this is his chance to be closer to Peter, to touch him like this, then he’s going to take it. Every little moment counts for him until he can work up the nerve to tell Peter he wants something real, something more official so that he no longer has to be the best friend that pines away in secret.

Meanwhile, Peter’s mind wanders as well, though he is nowhere near as far gone as Wade. He’s thinking of how warm Wade is and how grateful he is that Wade has stuck by his side after all these years.

\- - - - - - -

Two weeks later, Peter receives a phone call from Wade who excitedly tells him to cancel all of his dinner plans because Wade’s bringing over pizza later that evening. He then proceeds to ask what kind of beer he wants, to which Peter replies, “Whatever you want.”

A few hours later, Wade shows up with four pizza boxes and immediately hands them to Peter. After placing the food on the kitchen counter, Peter turns around to spot Wade waddling into the apartment carrying an entire case of beer. He’s about to ask about the mass amount of food but the label on the case catches his eyes.

“Wade, I know I said you could get whatever you want, but you know this is a no-IPA house. _You_ don’t even like IPAs all that much.”

Wade laughs as he sets the case down on the counter and unpacks it, pulling out four different six packs. Peter checks each one before nodding in approval. “Okay. This is acceptable. But why so much?”

“Weasel allowed someone else to manage the delivery today, and they just accepted everything. He doesn’t sell this stuff, definitely can’t push it with the mark-up, so I got it from him at point.”

“I understood half of that, but it sounds like you decided to throw a party because you got cheap beers?”

“Nah, it’s because of this.” Wade removes the bookbag that Peter didn’t even notice he was wearing. He pulls out several _Harry Potter_ DVDs. “I found this at the thrift store and—”

“I thought after that whole twitter—”

“DO NOT! NO! No. Just don’t.” Wade lowers the finger he has pointed in Peter’s face. “It’s an amazing series written by an anonymous author, and since I bought this for chump change and second-hand, I don’t have to worry about proceeds.” When Peter raises his hands in defense, Wade continues. “Anyways, I thought we could have a movie marathon!”

“Oh… but I… I have to—”

“Are you too busy for—”

“No, not right now. But tomorrow morning I have to go to the hospital. You know, Spidey visits in the Children’s Ward and all that.”

“Ah, we can just rain check until—”

“We can start now and just finish the marathon tomorrow. But I can’t go too hard since I have to to wake up early.”

Wade hands a pack of beer to Peter. “Gotcha. Ale tonight, stouts and porters tomorrow.”

Both men make it through the first movie, quoting memorable lines and poking fun at some of the acting and plot holes. Around the time Hermione is petrified in the middle of the second film, Wade feels a weight on his shoulders. He glances over to see Peter leaning against him, fast asleep. He waits a few moments, hoping Peter might stir awake from the sounds of the movie, but he doesn’t. Careful to keep Peter from falling over, Wade removes himself from the couch and turns off the TV. He looks back at Peter, wondering if he should wake him, but decides to just carry him to bed instead. Wade struggles to lift Peter and maneuver them around the room with a little extra weight in his arms. When he tries to get through the door to the bedroom, he accidentally knocks Peter’s knees against the frame.

“You suck at this,” Peter murmurs as he nuzzles against Wade’s arm.

Wade startles, nearly dropping the man. Even though Peter is clearly awake, he still keeps his voice down to a whisper. “Well not all of us have superstrength, thank you.” Wade starts to lower Peter’s feet towards the floor so he can stand but stops when Peter replies.

“And here I thought you said that I didn’t need to lose weight. Guess I’m too heavy for you to—”

“Don’t you fucking finish that sentence!” Wade stands upright, his grip now tighter on Peter as he makes his way towards the bed with renewed determination.

Peter’s eyes are still closed, but he’s smirking now. Wade is torn between finding it endearing and wanting to drop Peter just to wipe that look off his face. It takes him a moment to make the deposit, having carried Peter in a position that is in the opposite direction of the bed, but he eventually gets Peter into bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he thinks about what to do now, what to say. He wants to respond to the weight comment and tell Peter that he’s beautiful as is. He wants to ask about the movie marathon, excited to spend more time with Peter. He wants to say so many things that might give himself away, but nothing is said once he hears Peter’s breath, now louder but slower, indicating that he’s fallen back asleep.

Wade slips out of the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him. He stumbles around the apartment for a minute, putting away the pizza and beers they didn’t get to yet. He’s about to excuse himself through the window when he suddenly remembers Peter’s comment that he has to wake up early. After a failed attempt to find Peter’s phone without calling it, Wade decides the only way to make sure Spider-Man doesn’t oversleep and disappoint the kids is to wake Peter up in the morning himself. He sets five different alarms just in case, then he lays down on the couch, tucking his arm underneath his head to make up for the lack of a pillow.

A few hours later, Peter wakes up courtesy of his bladder. As he pads towards the bathroom, he sees Wade curled up on the couch, laying on his side and facing away from Peter.

_I don’t know how he does it. That couch is too old and saggy to be comfortable. Plus, he doesn’t even have—_

Peter gets an idea, rushing to the bathroom to handle his own business first. Wade takes that moment to roll over slightly, peeking around for signs of Peter. When he hears the bathroom door open again, he opts to close his eyes and adjust back into his former position, pretending to be asleep. Moments later, he feels something draped over his body. After a few gentle taps, he realizes Peter is trying to cover him with a blanket. Now he feels Peter carefully lifting his head. It’s a little bit uncomfortable, but he refuses to help, feeling vindicated from when he carried Peter to bed. Something soft and cool presses against his head, and when Peter carefully removes his hand, Wade realizes that Peter has given him a pillow to use. Wade strains his ears for the sounds of Peter returning to his room. Once he feels that it’s safe, he fixes his blanket so he can leave one leg sticking out like usual. He pulls the closet corner of the sheet towards himself, pressing it against his face to hide the silly grin caused by such a simple gesture.

When Peter returns to his bed, he curls up against the one pillow he has left and worries about Wade still not being comfortable enough. He has a fleeting thought to wake him up and tell him to just sleep in bed with him, but immediately decides against it.

_I don’t think he’s shared a bed with someone for quite some time now. He might not be used to it. It might be too awkward to sleep next to someone. I mean, it would be awkward for me because—_

Peter forces himself to think of his worst college class ever, the one that always makes him fall asleep. He didn’t want to complete that thought, to admit to himself how badly Wade confuses his heart.

In the living room, Wade toys with the edge of his gifted blanket, picking at all the pilling. He spends some time trying to think of excuses to enter Peter’s room, realizing that his best strategy—to just mosey on in and claim he got lost on the way to the bathroom—is still too poorly constructed to attempt. Instead, he allows his mind to wander until he realizes he missed his chance to ask Peter what time he needs to get up or if he has already set an alarm.

_Tried to play him back and I just played myself. I should have—_

Just then, Wade hears the harsh grunt of a snore coming from Peter’s bedroom. He buries his face in the blanket once again, but this time to stifle his laughter.

_What in the world was that!? I need to ask MJ the real reason they split because I’m pretty sure it’s because of that fog horn._

He listens for more, but doesn’t hear anything else from the bedroom before drifting off to sleep himself.

Wade hears a loud sound, startling awake. He sits upright and tries to swing his legs over the bed, only to realize too late that he’s on Peter’s couch. After falling to the floor, he hears another loud thump followed by Peter complaining.

“Wait… THAT BETTER NOT BE NO FUCKING PROFANITY, GOTDAMMIT!”

“I said ‘shoot,’ I swear!” Peter’s voice is a little muffled since he’s still inside his bedroom.

“You shouldn’t _be_ swearing! That’s the point!”

Wade chuckles to himself as he stands, thinking of how Aunt May still influences Peter all these years later. He tries to check on Peter but nearly ends up running into him on his way out of his bedroom. He’s dressed in his Spider-suit and pulling at the fabric around his waist.

“No sweatpants today?”

“Unfortunately, no. Gonna be a long morning.”

Patting the pockets of his pants to check for his wallet and keys, Wade mentions that he’ll get out of Peter’s hair as soon as possible. He stops the search for his phone when Peter grabs his arm. Looking over, he sees that Peter is holding out a key in his other hand.

“You can just chill out here until I get back. I mean, if you want to...”

“But that’s—”

“A copy of my key. You really need to stop coming in through my window during the day before someone sees you and calls the police.”

“Hey! I haven’t done that since last week! Okay, fine! Don’t give me that face!” Wade takes the key from Peter, immediately adding it to his keyring. “You know you could have just told me to stop coming in that way.”

“Like you’d listen. Besides, it’s not like I care that much to make you stop.” Peter gestures to the keyring before adding, “I figured this would be easier. I actually meant to give it to you a while ago. Sorry about that.”

“No, no need to—thank you.”

Peter then slips on his mask and grabs a bookbag from the corner of the room. He pads across the living room towards the window that Wade typically uses.

“OH! ALL THAT CRAP ABOUT ME NOT USING THE WINDOW AND HERE YOU ARE—”

“WADE!” Peter stops and gestures to his Spider-Man suit. “I kinda can’t go out the front door and have all my neighbors know—”

“Right, right, right. Well…” Wade blows a kiss and pitches his voice higher. “Have a good day at work, sweetie!” He watches Peter shake his head at him before slipping out of the apartment.

_The least he could have done was pretend to catch the kiss. Rude._

Wade looks down at his keyring, spotting one shiny new silver key among the few tarnished ones he already had. He knows he shouldn’t be feeling sentimental over a small piece of metal, but he really wants to read into this, to see this as a sign that they might be close enough for him to make a move that will be positively received. He goes back to the couch to sleep in a little longer, but the thoughts of how he might make that move keeps him up instead. After about an hour of unsuccessful rolling around, he decides to go out and buy himself a breakfast burrito, using that new key to reenter the apartment upon his return.

A few hours later, Peter shows up dressed in civilian clothes and carrying some mail.

“Welcome home, honey!”

Peter only hums in response as he shifts through the letters. Wade checks the clock before asking if it’s too soon to restart the movie marathon. Peter doesn’t even look at the clock when he tells him to go ahead and to bring out the pizza and beers while he’s at it. As Wade goes to get their food, he peeks over at Peter, noticing him scowling at a piece of mail and complaining under his breath. After carefully balancing two pizza boxes on the coffee table, Wade grabs a six-pack from the fridge. He returns to the coffee table and spots a new wedding invite on the stack of invitations that Peter keeps on the corner of the coffee table. It’s kind of hard to miss Mary Jane’s name in fancy silver script, shining brightly under the fluorescent lights.

“You remember where we left off?”

Wade looks over at Peter who has just settled back onto the couch, gesturing for Wade to hand him a beer. “You mean where you fell asleep?”

“Same difference.”

As Wade sets up the movie, Peter picks up the wedding invitation to double check if he put the date in his phone. As he does so, the RSVP card slips out and lands on his lap. He picks it up, flipping it over, and notices his ex’s handwriting at the bottom; it’s a special note just for him.

“Seriously, MJ!?” Peter mumbles to himself, but Wade hears him.

He tries to play it cool as he sits down on the sofa next to Peter. “Is it about her sending you an invite?”

“Nah, it’s this.” Peter shows him the RSVP card, pointing to the bottom of it. Under the plus one section, MJ had already checked ‘yes’ and written out a note saying he better bring someone.

“Is that why you were angry at your mail earlier?”

“Huh? No. That was because of some water bill nonsense I’ve been fighting with since… I went out of town last winter… Anyways, she really expects me to bring someone, and she knows I haven’t been trying to go out since all that dating app nonsense. What am I supposed to do? Drag a stranger from the streets and bring them to a wedding?”

“Wait, she knows about the dating apps and everything?”

Peter shrugs as he fishes around the end table for the bottle opener. “Yeah, why not. We still talk.”

Wade knows MJ isn’t a threat; this whole conversation is happening because she’s getting married. However, he still worries whether or not Peter is really over her. “So, you’re cool with her? I mean, enough to go to her wedding and everything.”

After Peter opens his drink, he leans over and opens Wade’s for him, saying, “Of course. It’s not like we hate each other. We just wanted too many different things in life and couldn’t stay together because of it. Sometimes you’re better off as friends than lovers. So, I don’t mind going to the wedding. What I do mind is being _told_ to bring a plus one.”

The lightbulb in Wade’s mind turns on. “You know what, she’s right. You should definitely bring someone.”

Peter gives Wade a look of betrayal. “Excuse you? Why _should_ I be forced to—”

“To have a guaranteed dance partner, of course! You know, for the reception? That’s the best part, and it’s even better if you have someone to dance _with_.”

“But I wasn’t even planning on sticking around for the reception that—”

“Who the hell are you because the Peter I know wouldn’t pass on free food!”

Peter gives a long suffering sigh. “Well, I was gonna stay long enough for that, but I’m still not going to dance.”

“Petey! Please! It’ll be better than sitting around and watching everyone else be all lovey dovey. And didn’t you have more fun at that last wedding after I dragged you out of your chair? You had fun dancing with me, right?”

“Yeah, I guess, but—”

“So that settles everything!”

“How does that settle _everything_?”

“They only need this for the headcount, and it’s already filled out, just need to send it back.” Wade points to the RSVP card now back on the stack of invites. “Don’t need to tell them _who_ that person is. As for finding that plus one, the wedding is still months away, you got time. And—don’t interrupt me. I got this. And if for some reason everyone is blind to your charm and you don’t swing a date, I’ll go with you!”

Peter nurses his beer as he thinks it over, trying his hardest to ignore Wade’s pleading face off to the side. When he finally admits that the most fun he’s had at a wedding in the last three years was the one Wade livened up for him, he feels significantly better about the plus one situation. “Ok, fine. If I don’t find anyone, you’ll come with me.” He points a finger sternly at Wade. “And you better not bail!”

Wade grabs Peter’s hand, adjusting the positions of the fingers until he could wrap his pinky around Peter’s. “Promise!”

By the end of the month, Wade has managed to convince Peter to meet him at a local café for a lunch date. To him, it’s an actual date, but he doesn’t feel the need to tell Peter that. He waits at a table in the outdoor seating area, eyeing the streets for any sign of Peter. When he finally spots him, he wonders if Peter might have thought this is a real date as well.

Realizing that not dressing like a bum might make him feel less like a bum, Peter has decided to clean up his appearances before heading out. He spent all morning trying to freshen up his image by getting rid of his five o’clock shadow and purchasing some new clothes. Since a meal with Wade is a low-risk situation, he’s even attempted to try out a new outfit.

Wade takes in the new turtleneck and the jeans that look like they haven’t even been broken in yet. His eyes trail down to Peter’s pair of white Converse just as he arrives at the table. Unable to help himself, Wade leans over and gestures to Peter’s feet with both of his hands, shouting, “WHAT ARE THOOOSE!?”

“They’re called ‘shoes,’ Wade. Quit being so loud.”

Wade gives him an apologetic look but has zero intention of minding his volume.

The start of their lunch is very relaxed, just idle small talk, including comments about the weather. However, as soon as the waitress drops off their food and walks away, Peter leans in and gives Wade a mischievous grin. He gestures for Wade to come closer and then whispers, “So, last night you texted me something about a competition at Sister Margaret’s and some kind of ‘absolute fiasco,’ if I remember correctly. What happened?”

The same mischievous grins finds its way onto Wade’s face too.

_Oh, I feel like an old Southern Baptist lady ready to gossip as soon as service is over!_

Wade regales the tale to Peter, having to backtrack and explain exactly how fantasy fight nights work. When he reaches a particularly intense part of the story, Wade reaches over and grabs Peter’s wrist for emphasis, holding onto it while he continues talking. It takes him a couple minutes to realize that Peter hasn’t taken a bite of his food in a while, and he looks down. Quickly snatching his hand back, Wade mumbles out a low apology for holding Peter’s dominant hand hostage. As he picks his story back up, Wade wonders if Peter’s really into the story or just not hungry since it takes him some time to pick his fork back up and resume eating.

Meanwhile, Peter feels bad for missing part of Wade’s story. Before Wade let go of his wrist, Peter didn’t notice he’d been distracted with thoughts of why Wade grabbed his wrist and not his hand. His mind craves to explore why he had this urge to get their hands closer, but Peter tries his best to force the thought to the side as he grabs his fork and digs into his meal. He makes it a point to listen to every word Wade says this time.

They look over to a nearby table when they hear the first verses of the Happy Birthday Song being sung. There’s a small gathering of people celebrating a child probably too young to remember this event. They watch as the toddler makes grabbing gestures for the cake while it’s being served. Once the little one is given his own slice, he immediately starts eating it with his hand. A few other guests are given a slice before the father cuts himself one. As he gets settled back into his seat, the child reaches over and grabs a fistful of the dad’s cake. He then proceeds to alternate between eating the chunks on his hands and smearing the frosting onto his face.

Wade nudges Peter and says, “Mood.”

Peter groans, wanting to call him out on using colloquialisms much too young for him, but doesn’t since he also agrees.

\- - - - - - -

A couple weeks later, Peter follows Wade home after another trivia night. Their buzz gives them just enough confidence to act up in the streets, loudly joking and jostling each other. The cold night air and the long walk help to sober them up some, but their behavior remains the same. They eventually make it into Wade’s apartment, continuing a heated debate over olives on pizza that quickly dies down once they simultaneously fall back onto Wade’s couch. Peter feels like something is off with this piece of furniture, so he takes a moment to poke at it, staring intently. Finally, it clicks.

“You got a new sofa!”

“Yup, had to get rid of the old one.”

“How come?” Wade tries to rush to get the remote and find something for them to watch, but when Peter turns towards him, he knows he has to give an answer. “There were… scorch marks… because I—”

“I don’t think I want to know.”

Wade chuckles as he surfs the channels. They sit silently for a couple minutes as each channel clicks on by. When Wade looks over at Peter to ask if he’d rather watch a movie, Peter speaks up first.

“Do you want to go patrolling?”

“In our civies?” Wade tugs on Peter’s jacket, scandalized.

Peter sits up straight and lifts his shirt just enough to show Wade the suit he’s wearing underneath.

“Look at you! Looking like that gung-ho ready-anytime Spidey from back in the day.”

“Well, it has been getting a bit colder, so I figure I might as well layer up.”

Wade stands and starts stripping on the way to his bedroom. “Uh-huh, sure, and the Spidey-suit is the only thing you have to layer with?” He quietly laughs to himself when he hears no response, knowing that Peter is probably trying to scowl at him through the bedroom wall.

Once on patrol, it doesn’t take long for them to find some would-be criminals. They’re unnumbered, so the scuffle drags on, each man taking more and more hits until the police finally arrive to provide assistance. Once the matter is resolved, Spider-Man and Deadpool slip away, heading straight to Wade’s apartment a few blocks in the distance.

Once inside, Peter heads straight to the bathroom to peel off his suit and splash some cold water on his sore face. He changes back into his day clothes and heads out to the living room. Meanwhile, Wade has only managed to get out of his gear and is patiently waiting his turn to freshen up. When he sees Peter slipping out of the bathroom, he notices the wounds on Peter’s face, pulling an elaborate string of profanity from him that makes Peter mime clutching at his pearls. Wade ignores the gesture as he rushes to grab his first aid kit, demanding Peter take a seat on the couch.

Typically, Peter would take care of his own injuries, but he hasn’t been in this much pain in several years, aside from that time in the multiverse. So, when Wade returns with the kit, he doesn’t say a word.

Wade grabs a few items out of the kit and then stands between Peter’s legs. He hovers over Peter as he cleans each cut tenderly. He then applies some ointment to Peter’s skin to help with the bruising before pulling out a bandaid for the nick across Peter’s nose.

“Does it look like they broke it back into place?”

It takes him a moment, but when Wade realizes Peter is talking about the crook in his nose, he finally breaks a smile, realizing he’s been scowling all this time.

“Nah, they didn’t quite get it right.” Wade starts putting away items in the kit as he asks, “Want me to try?”

“I think I’ll pass, thank you. But since you’re done with me now, it’s my turn.”

Peter pulls on Wade’s arm, trying to steer him to the seat cushion next to him. Wade wants to insist that he doesn’t need first aid since he’ll heal in no time anyways, but Peter won’t hear it. The next thing Wade knows, Peter is in his personal space, bony kneecap digging into Wade’s thigh as Peter stoops forward to clean each and every one of Wade’s cuts that he can see. Wade feels Peter’s hands gently moving over his face as he wipes it down with alcohol pads before applying ointment that Wade argues he doesn’t need. Peter then moves onto one of Wade’s hands, cleaning the few scrapes there before grabbing a _Hello Kitty_ bandage. Raptly, he watches Peter wrap the bandage around his finger oh so carefully, concentration on his face in the form of furrowed brows and a little sliver of his tongue sticking out to the side.

Wade laughs breathily at the sight, causing Peter to look up at him.

With a smirk, he asks, “What’s so funny?”

Wade shakes his head, prompting Peter to resume doting on him. He can feel himself flush and wonders if Peter feels the same way whenever their roles are reversed.

As Peter grabs Wade’s other hand to clean a particularly nasty cut on the side of it, Wade clears his throat. “So, uh… I know you still got some time, but… have you thought of anyone? You know, as your plus one for MJ’s hitching?”

A wave of relief washes over him as Peter scoffs. “Of course not. Besides, I don’t think I even know of anyone that’s single and would be down for a wedding. I mean, there’s one of Aunt May’s friend’s daughters, but I… we don’t really… she’s a bit awkward, but in that way where—”

“You don’t vibe with her?”

Peter slowly glances up, giving Wade an annoyed stare. “No, we don’t _vibe_.”

“Ah. That sucks, but there’s really no one else?”

“Not anyone that I can think of. It’ll be cool if I could find someone who’s as fun at parties as you. Then I might actually be able to fully enjoy the reception.”

“So… sounds like you’re looking for a gal, easy on the eyes, and who can get down like me. I’m sorry to inform you that _no one_ parties like me, so you’ll—”

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be a girl.”

“W-what?”

Peter shrugs as he starts putting away the supplies to the first aid kit. “It doesn’t have to be some pretty lady or whatever just because it’s a wedding reception. I’m not really opposed to taking some dude as long as it’s still a fun reception.”

Wade’s hopes are renewed, making him want to tell Peter to just take him, not as a failsafe, but as a date. A _real_ date. But before he can articulate the thought, Peter stands to put away the first aid kit. As he leaves the room, he stays something that puts on pause on Wade’s word.

“Either way, I don’t really care right now. I’ll worry about it after New Years, when it’s closer to the actual date.”

Even with Peter out of the room, Wade still feels the urge to ride the momentum of their previous conversation. His mind is racing with different ways to take the conversation, and that’s when Peter returns, when he blurts out the first thought currently on his mind.

“We should practice dancing.”

“What?”

“Even if you’re going to wait to worry about your date, you’re still going to need all the help you can get to bust a move on that dance floor come summer.”

Peter stares at him blankly and Wade takes it as in invitation. He rushes across the room and grabs both of Peter’s hands, dragging him to the middle of the living room. Awkwardly, Wade kicks at the coffee table to make more space before letting go of Peter’s hands.

“Wade. I’ve seen you dance. I don’t think I can—”

“Nah, I don’t expect you to be able to copy my routine at this—”

“Is it a parkour routine?”

“Yes, actually, with a little bit of _Nutcracker_.” Wade pulls out his phone and selects a playlist. “Anyways, right now let’s start with the basics.”

“Do you even know the basics?”

“No, so let’s figure them out together.”

Wade struggles to get Peter to mimic his movements. Peter can tell that his embarrassment is obvious to Wade. But after a solid twenty minutes, he finally relaxes enough to start following Wade’s lead, albeit his movements are just subtle arm and hip jerks at the moment.

After a few more minutes of practice, Wade says, “Good, good! You’re getting it! But now let’s stop with this whole stationary dancing thing and put your feet to work.”

“No, this is fine for now.”

Peter waves Wade off and tries to head for the couch only to be stopped by an arm around his belly pulling him back.

“I don’t think so. We’re doing good here. Let’s keep up the flow.”

Peter sighs and looks down at their feet. “How?”

Wade takes a step closer and grabs for one of Peter’s hands. As he places his other hand on Peter’s waist, he says, “By taking small steps.”

Wade slides his foot back a half step and nods at Peter. When Peter doesn’t move, he moves for him, shaking Peter’s arm in the process. Peter shakes his head ‘no’ but at the same time he moves his foot forward, filling in the gap caused by Wade’s first movement. Wade repeats the process with his other foot, and Peter mirrors the action more quickly this time.

Throughout the entire next song, they stumble around in slow, tiny circles. Wade would hardly count this as dancing in any other context, but being here with Peter makes it feel perfect as is, in spite of the few times Peter manages to step on his toes.

When the next song starts, it’s much livelier, something far too fast-paced for the slow movements they’re working on now. Wade feels Peter’s hand slip from his arm as he takes a step away. He lets go of Peter’s hand and steps back himself, feeling a little sad at the loss of contact.

“Good practice, but I think I should head home soon,” Peter jerks his head to the clock on the wall, and Wade is surprised to see that it’s already past midnight.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Since when did Spidey have a bedtime?”

“Since he hit thirty and realized how much he really likes sleep.”

“I can’t fault you there. Fine. You can leave, but we’re having another dance lesson soon!”

Peter nods as he gathers up his belongings. Before he leaves, Wade starts goofing around again, telling him to stick to the sidewalks, not to talk to strangers, and to text him as soon as he gets home. Peter knows Wade is joking, but he still sends him a text after he enters his apartment.

Wade is nearly asleep when he hears the new ping he set as Peter’s text tone so that he can tell it apart from other messages. He keeps his face buried in his pillow and grumbles, but his hand is frantically slapping around, searching for the phone. Once he finds it, he rolls over and peeks an eye open to look at the screen. He can feel a grin stretching across his face as he reads the message.

 _Petey_ : Made it home, mom.

Wade giggles to himself as he types out a reply, asking Peter if he wants a packed lunch for school tomorrow.

 _Petey_ : Nah, I’ll just take some pop tarts.

Peter puts his phone away and heads for the shower. Once he’s clean, Peter trudges to bed and slips under the covers with a content sigh. He falls asleep quickly but wakes when he hears a noise. Believing it to be something in the alley outside, he snuggles against his pillow and tries to will himself to sleep. But when he hears the sound of tearing paper, he bolts upright. He waits a moment, trying to convince himself that he didn’t actually hear anything, especially since his Spidey-Senses didn’t go off.

_Just to be safe…_

As Peter exits his bedroom, he hears the front door shut. He rushes towards the front of his apartment, ready to attack anyone who dares enter his home uninvited, just to find it empty. He goes to the door and peeks through the peephole, but sees nothing. Resisting the urge to poke his head outside, Peter decides to check the rest of his home just in case. He peeks into the kitchen first, squinting against the darkness before realizing he can just turn on the lights. As soon as he does, he realizes what has happened.

Peter smiles to himself as he picks up the note that was left for him on the counter. In Wade’s familiar handwriting, it says to take some fruit too and to have a good day at school. Peter looks back over to the counter, to the box of Pop-Tarts and three bananas that Wade left for him. He sets the note back down and pads back to his room.

Sleep quickly overtakes him again before deciding if he should tell Wade that this is not why he gave him the spare key or if he should just leave him to his own devices. The next morning, while he’s busy scalding his tongue on a blueberry toaster pastry straight out of the toaster, he realizes that letting Wade do what he wants with the key is probably his best option.

For the next two weeks, Wade and Peter spend their evenings working on finding informants and the evidence necessary to catch smugglers from the port. Finally, the night arrives where they have a chance to prevent a giant shipment from being delivered and catch the head crooks all in one go. They go to their marks and wait. Wade watches for signs for the boss and Peter for the cargo containers to be pulled. It takes nearly twenty minutes to get through gunfire and web the lackeys, secure the shipment, and incapacite the leaders for the police to take care of. Luckily, NYC SWAT shows up right on time to take over. Peter grabs Wade and swings them both out of the port; their mission is now completed.

As soon as they get onto a nearby rooftop, they start celebrating. Mainly that involves Wade hugging Peter all while trying to jump up and down. It makes Peter laugh as he struggles to pull off his mask. But the laughter gets cut short as soon as his face is uncovered because Wade takes that opportunity to kiss him, full on the mouth.

Peter scowls and shoves him away. “CUT THAT OUT!”

Wade’s smile falters as one of the corners of his mouth twitches. “Petey, I just—”

“You always take things too far! The jokes, the flirting, you don’t need to go and—”

“I’m sorry! I’m—I know I shouldn’t—You know what? I’m just gonna go.”

Peter sighs heavily and reaches out a hand, telling Wade to stop, but he’s already sprinting towards the fire escape on the side of the building. Jogging to catch up, Peter tries to get Wade to come back by apologizing and asking to talk things out, but he gets no reply. By the time he peeks over the side of the building, he see’s Wade crawling over the edge of the smaller unit next to it.

Peter sits on the ledge, his feet dangling on the ladder. He feels bad for snapping at Wade like that and for raising his voice, but he also thinks that Wade still needs to know that he crossed a line. He waits, deep in thought, for nearly half an hour, hoping that Wade will turn around and come back any second. When he’s forced to admit to himself that Wade has left for good, Peter slips his mask back on and swings his way back home.

He peels out of his suit from the waist up before grabbing a beer from the fridge. Grabbing some leftover take-out from the fridge, he thinks about why he got so mad at Wade. He doesn’t get any answers, and all he can manage to do with the food is poke at it with his fork.

Peter is upset that Wade went too far with the physical display of affection; friends shouldn’t kiss each other like that, no matter how excited they are about catching bad guys. However, he’s more upset that for a split second, he thought to kiss back before realizing he shouldn’t. Peter spends the rest of the night thinking about their interactions over the past few months, trying to decide if he’s actually catching feelings for Wade, or if it’s just Wade’s behavior that’s causing him to have intrusive thoughts.

_But it’s not just these past few months. Wade has always been like this, since day one. If my feelings were to change just from some heavy flirting, wouldn’t this have happened a long time ago? Or at least some point earlier on after my divorce?_

_Why now? Am I really—No. No, I can’t._

Peter drags himself to the bathroom and turns on the shower. As he struggles to get out of the rest of his Spidey-suit and sweat combo, he concludes that it might be best to just push any and all feelings aside.

_I can’t be crushing on him. He doesn’t really mean it; he’s just a big flirt. If I were to say or do anything, it’ll probably just make things awkward between us and probably end up ruining the best friendship I’ve got. It’ll be best to just keep quiet and wait for these feelings to fade._

By the time Peter steps into his shower, Wade has finally managed to make it home himself after taking a slow stroll to clear his head. However, his head is anything but clear. It’s filled with voices telling him how badly he fucked up—how he let his fantasies about Peter get in the way so much that he forgot for a moment they weren’t really together, he’ll never know.

Wade enters his apartment and doesn’t bother turning on the lights as he trudges through the dark to the bathroom. He does flick on the lights in there, squinting briefly at the sudden brightness from the fluorescent bulbs overhead. Wade takes a moment to stare at himself in the mirror, slowly tilting his head in each direction.

_You went too far. You forgot your place. Peter may be a good friend, willing to hang out with you and be seen with you now and again, but he won’t ever see you like that. Besides—_

Wade frowns at his reflection before turning off the lights, leaving him in darkness once again.

“It’s not like he’d ever really want to kiss a face like this.”

Stumbling to his bedroom, he strips out of his suit. When Wade feels his knees hit the bed, he falls over, lying on it sideways.

Wade makes up his mind to back off, to give Peter some space, at least for a little while. He hopes that with some time, Peter can calm down and forgive him, and they can get back to what they really are, just friends. As he lies in bed, he wonders how much space he needs to give Peter, trying to come up with an exact timeframe of avoidance based on all the other times he’s pissed Peter off. He recalls that in spite of the many fights they’ve had in the past, Peter got over things easily enough. Even so, Wade recognizes that it’s not just Peter who needs space in this situation. He needs time for his heart to heal, too, and he doesn’t know how long that will take. He knows himself, how he’s been so far gone on Peter that he’s reached the point of dropping whatever he’s doing to come running any time Peter texts or calls.

“You can’t be doing that shit. You need to stick to your guns for your own sake. Don’t expose yourself to anymore heartbreak, you dumb fuck.”

Feeling more determined than sad now, Wade shifts on the mattress until he’s lying on it the right away so he can fall asleep. As soon as he closes his eyes, he hears Peter’s text tone. He screws his eyes shut and clenches his fist in his pillow, mentally repeating ‘don’t’ to himself. He hears a second chime not long after.

_Really, you asshole? Gonna test my conviction this fucking soon!?_

Wade turns over just enough to scream weakly into his pillow. He does it a few more times until he feels satisfied. Rolling onto his back, it takes him over two hours to fall asleep, his thoughts running through countless ‘what if’ scenarios. When his exhaustion finally outweighs his anxiety, Wade manages to slip into a deep slumber, and Peter’s texts remain unanswered.


	4. Winter: Reset to Fast Track

Peter holds his coffee close to his face with both hands, letting the steam warm him as he trudges through the first snowfall on his way home. He feels a quick vibration in his pocket and picks up the pace, eager to get home and check his phone. The thought that it might be Wade finally texting back is too tempting, and Peter stops walking in order to move the coffee cup to one hand and pull out his phone. He fumbles it, hitting the side button and clearing the screen of all notifications before he even has a chance to read them. He grumbles to himself as he has to use his teeth to remove his right glove so he can unlock his phone. Seeing the notification from his banking app, he realizes the buzz from earlier was probably for a bill automatically being paid. He quickly swipes to check the notification menu, confirming that it’s just as he predicted. Yet, the confirmation isn’t still good enough to get the thought of Wade out of his head. He opens the messaging app and slumps when he sees that Wade still hasn’t replied. Peter looks at his last message sent and sees a new word at the bottom of it.

_‘Read.’ Well, at least I know he’s well enough to check his messages, even if he’s still not responding._

Peter scrolls through the messages he’s sent over the past few weeks. They range from casual check-ins to explanations that he’s not mad at him and just wants to hang out again.

_He should know I’m not mad by now. I can never stay upset with him, especially not for two weeks. Is it something else that’s making him unresponsive?_

_If he was on a mission, he could have easily said that instead of just leaving me on read._

_Maybe I should just go over there and check on him in person. But how—_

A sudden gust of air causes Peter to shiver. He pockets his phone along with the glove that was in between his teeth. His steps are swift as he rushes home, eager to start on his plan to check-in on Wade and ensure he doesn’t get brushed off like all his text messages.

_To catch a Wade, you must act like a Wade._

Meanwhile, Wade has done well to not open any of Peter’s messages or answer his calls, attempting the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ method of getting over him. However, simply ignoring those desperate attempts at communication is not enough when there are so many moments that remind him of Peter. Such as now, Wade sees an advertisement for a weekend-long old-school Christmas movie marathon. Knowing that Peter will enjoy that, he picks up his phone and starts texting him. He gets three words in before hastily deleting the message and throwing his phone onto a nearby pile of laundry.

“You _dumb_ fuck!” Wade berates himself before repeatedly smacking his head into his pillow over such a foolish mistake. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit! He’s probably gonna call me or some shit now. Wait… oh fuck… what if he tries to come over? FUCK!”

Wade falls out of bed as he races to clean his place up, hoping to hide all signs of his recent depression.

_Just got to get it back to normal messy, not heartbroken messy, that’s all._

As Wade frantically cleans, he thinks more about the chances of Peter knocking on his door, demanding a response for the recent silence. He plans to blame it on a mission, but he’s worried about how his heart will react to seeing Peter after all their time apart. As soon as he imagines Peter walking through the door, he feels a warmth in his chest that’s been absent for weeks. He takes out several bags of trash and returns to his unit, looking down the hall for signs of Peter.

_Shit. You’re really not going to get over him anytime soon. Might as well get used to just being friends because that’s as good as it’s going to get._

_And… I guess that’s okay… I mean, it’s not like he ever gave you a real reason to believe your feelings would ever be returned. He just doesn’t—_

Wade’s phone starts ringing, and thanks to the tone, he knows exactly who it is. He takes a seat on the couch before answering.

“Hey! You answered!”

Wade hums into the phone.

“You doing alright?”

“Yeah, just been busy. You know, missions and stuff.”

“Ah. I see.” There is a long silence from Peter, but Wade believes that he can hear wind over the line. “I’ve missed you.”

Wade curses under his breath. The words get to him even though he knows they shouldn’t.

“Woah… Is this a bad time?”

“No! Sorry! That wasn’t for you.”

“Oh. Cool. Well, are you busy?”

Wade takes his time to answer, wondering if Peter’s about to ask if he can come over and if he’s willing to say “yes.” Instead, he asks, “Where are you?”

“A few blocks from the Daily Bugle. I’m actually about to go patrol if you wanna come join me.”

Wade makes a noncommittal sound, but he’s already standing to grab his gear. “You’re starting now?”

“Yeah, well, no. I kinda want to grab dinner first. That ‘Havana’ food truck should be nearby right about now so how about you meet me there?”

“Wait, you mean Little Havana!?” It’s on Wade’s list of top ten food trucks, and he feels like Peter is playing him like a fiddle; not that he’s complaining.

“Yeah. I’ll pay if you—”

“You should have led with that!”

Wade ends the call and scrambles to put on his gear, throwing on a coat over the top. He double-checks that he has his wallet before rushing out the door, mumbling to himself, “If he thinks I’m going to let him pay for me as a way to butter me up, he’s out of his damn mind. I’mma get there first and beat him to the punch. See how he likes it when—”

Wade stops in his tracks as soon as he hits the sidewalk and sees Peter standing there, a large to-go bag in hand. Peter grins broadly at him as he shakes the bag, as if Wade wouldn’t notice a delicious smelling mass of white plastic stark against Peter’s dark coat.

“The hell is this!? I thought you said you were gonna patrol and—”

“Decided to pull a Wade and come check on you with food in hand.”

“How dare you use my own tricks against me!? I didn’t consent to that!”

Peter gives him a smug look before handing the food over. “Can we go up now? You took so long responding on the phone I can’t feel my fingers.”

Wade leads the way into the apartment. As they eat and catch up on a show they’ve been watching together, Wade begins to wonder how he lasted so long without Peter’s company. Towards the end of the meal, Peter asks him if he really was on a mission or if something else has been going on. Wade examines Peter’s face, his tired eyes and five o’clock shadow not helping hide the look of concern. He gives Peter a smile that makes him relax a little.

“Yeah, everything’s good now.”

\- - - - - - -

A few days later, Peter hears a knock on the door, but when he goes to check the peephole, he can’t see anything. Before he can question why his Spidey-sense hasn’t triggered for someone covering the peephole, he hears Wade shout.

“PETEY PIE! OPEN THE DOOR! MY HANDS ARE FULL!”

Peter unlocks and swings the door open immediately, nearly getting knocked over by the Christmas tree that Wade shoves through the entryway.

“What are you doing!?”

“Bringing you some Christmas spirit in the form of decapitated plant life.”

Peter complains that he doesn’t intend to decorate for Christmas; he hasn’t since the divorce.

“But I’m here now, and when I come over, I’d like to see some Christmas joy so I know I’m not friends with the Grinch.”

As Wade sets up the tree in the corner of the living room, Peter realizes he’s lost the argument. He goes to close the door and notices three brown shopping bags in the hallway. While he peeks inside them, spotting Christmas decorations, Wade shouts at him to bring them in too. Wade immediately begins pulling out ornaments and tinsel, tossing them haphazardly onto the floor. Eventually he pulls out a giant ball of Christmas lights, handing them over to Peter.

“Care to do the honors?”

“Sounds more like a punishment than honors,” Peter replies flatly but takes a seat on the sofa to untangle the lights.

Soon, Peter hears Wade say ‘yeet’ at regular intervals. He glances up and sees Wade throwing baubles on the tree, saying the word with each toss and frowning whenever they tumble towards the ground, which happens more often than not.

The next time Wade does it, Peter says, “Stop with the ‘yeet.’ You’re too old for that.”

Wade turns and stares directly at Peter. He raises his arms as if about to shoot a basketball and shouts, “KOBE!” as he tosses the ornament right over the tree. Wade snaps his head back towards the tree when he hears it hit the wall behind the tree. “Wow. My bad. That was definitely not Kobe.”

Peter groans quietly to himself as he stands to go plug in the Christmas lights, making sure all the bulbs work. Once they wrap them around the tree, Wade and Peter hang the ornaments, properly this time. They work quietly for a while, which is fine by Peter since he’s deep in his own thoughts. 

He’s trying to figure out how to ask Wade to join him for his holiday parties while also deciding if he even wants to go himself. He imagines what it would be like to drag Wade along, picturing himself more focused on Wade rather than his old college friends that he only sees at funerals and weddings. He resolves to later ask Wade about his plans to see if he can spend time with Wade in lieu of going to the pub with his acquaintances.

When they’re on the last set of ornaments, Wade asks, “You know what you’re going to do for Christmas?”

“Like, Christmas day? Nothing.”

“No plans whatsoever for the holidays?”

“Well, some undergrad friends want to meet up on Christmas eve. And some old club members plan to party on New Years Eve, ring in the new year together. But I honestly don’t know if I want to go to either of those. It’s going to be so noisy and crowded.”

“You should go.”

“Maybe.”

“Seriously. Go to the Christmas eve one at least. Then when we hang out on Christmas day, watch shitty Christmas movies, and swap stories from our parties.”

“Oh? So you just decided for me that we’re hanging out on Christmas day?”

Wade pauses before he hangs up the last bauble. “Are we not?”

Peter starts laughing. “Of course we are.”

During the Christmas eve party a week later, Peter is surrounded by couples and people showing off pictures of their children. There are a few like him, either single or divorced, but the mood of the room seems to be controlled by those with families. Even so, Peter doesn’t feel bad about it, not this time. He is a little bored since he doesn’t have much to contribute conversation-wise, but he knows that he doesn’t need a traditional nuclear family to have a good Christmas.

He has Wade.

However, the conversation soon turns into discussions about crappy Christmas gifts, and Peter realizes that he hasn’t even thought about getting Wade anything this year. He quickly polishes off two drinks as he silently panics, trying to decide what kind of present to get. He listens to his friends, but they’re no help as they are now discussing the hottest toy of the season. He spends the rest of the night thinking of what Wade might like, tuning out the other unhelpful conversations around him.

On his trip back home, he suddenly remembers Wade mentioning something that needs to be replaced. He tells the taxi driver to pull over at the nearest department store that’s still open. After managing to find exactly what he needs, Peter breathes a sigh of relief as he hands over his credit card, paying a little extra for gift wrap.

\- - - - - - -

Christmas morning, Wade enters Peter’s home by going through the window, hoping to be caught so he can use a lame line about Peter not having a fireplace for Santa. However, Wade doesn’t spot Peter when he rolls onto the floor. He sets his gift for Peter under the tree and suspiciously eyes the box that is already down there. He’s tempted to peel back some of the paper and peek inside but decides to behave just this once. After removing his coat and boots, he waits on the couch for a whole ten seconds before sneaking off to the bedroom. Lightly tapping on the door, he whispers a few questions to Peter, asking if he’s awake and dressed. When there’s no reply, he cracks the door open just enough to peer inside.

Peter’s still in bed, so he immediately swings the door open the rest of the way. It takes him only three quick strides to cross the room until he’s right next to the bed. There were a few times in the past where Wade found Peter still asleep and tried to crawl into bed with him, and each time it resulted in Peter pushing him out from under the sheets, once even webbing him to the floor for good measure. So, Wade knows he shouldn’t do it, but—

_You just don’t break some traditions._

Carefully folding back the covers, Wade eases himself onto the bed. As he tries to get comfortable, he shakes the bed just enough to wake Peter, causing him to turn his head and stare unamused at Wade. They maintain eye contact for a good few seconds until Peter rolls away, laying on his stomach and mumbling something that vaguely sounds like, “Get out or else.”

“Make me.”

Peter lifts his head to glare at Wade but immediately buries it back into his pillow. “Too much effort.”

Wade chuckles at how Peter’s voice sounds muffled by the stuffing. Hoping it will prevent Peter from falling asleep during their movie marathon, Wade decides to let him rest, pulling out his phone to kill time. This doesn’t last long since Wade finds the bed just warm enough to lull him off to sleep as well.

When an elbow makes contact with his chest, Wade wakes up to see Peter attempting a stretch.

“S’rry ’bout that,” Peter mumbles as he pulls his arm closer to himself.

Wade looks at the room left between them and the position they’re now in. There’s a good half foot of space preventing them from properly spooning. The distance then closes slightly when Peter shifts onto his back, staring straight up at the ceiling.

“It’s Christmas, Petey. Shouldn’t you go see what Santa brought you?”

“Hmm. Maybe in a minute.”

Wade starts counting to sixty, just to be an ass about the comment. But he only makes it to twenty before Peter asks, “Did you check?”

“Check what?”

“To see what Santa left _you_?”

“Oh, of course. _Hours_ ago, unlike _some_ people.”

Peter’s chuckle is a little deeper than usual because of sleep. He glances over at Wade and asks, “So did you get everything you wanted?”

Wade looks at Peter’s lazy, easy smile, his messy greying hair, and the plaid PJ shirt that is clearly an old gift from Aunt May. He thinks about how badly he wants to scoot closer and put an arm around Peter as he says, “Almost everything.”

“You should have gotten coal.”

Stuttering out a breathy laugh from the shock of the prompt remark, Wade sits up in bed and gives Peter a look of offense. “You know what, I wish he did leave me coal. I would have turned it into a fossil fuel empire.”

Peter runs his fingers through his hair attempting to tame it. “You’re probably the reason why he stopped using coal. Only you could receive something terrible and make it work.”

Peter leans over and checks the time on his phone. After swinging his feet off the edge of the bed, he looks over his shoulder at Wade and says, “Let’s go. We got a long list of movies to get through.”

Wade makes a pot of coffee while Peter takes a shower to wake up. He watches the slow drip of the coffee as he thinks about his Christmas morning so far, how Peter has allowed him to sleep next to him. All signs point to Peter being too tired to deal with Wade, yet he still finds himself trying to read deeper into it. When the bathroom door opens and Peter makes a comment about smelling something delicious, Wade makes up his mind to see if he can get away with sleeping next to Peter again at some point in the future.

They quietly sip their coffee, both too impatient and burning their tongues in the process. After a few minutes, Peter says, “For someone so eager to have me check for gifts, you haven’t seemed to notice the one under the tree.”

“That’s for me!?” Wade is already setting down his mug and racing towards the tree before Peter can confirm it.

Wade sits cross-legged in front of the Christmas tree as he tears the paper of the small box. He pauses when he sees the brand name printed on the box.

“You didn’t!” Wade breathes out, looking over his shoulder at Peter who’s now making his way into the living room.

Peter gestures for Wade to continue opening the gift. “You said you needed one. Hopefully this will do because it was the only watch they had that counted as a ‘tactical’.”

Wade takes the matte black timepiece out of the box and traces a thumb around the dial. He pulls out the tiny booklet that was also in the box, skimming through all the specifications. “Water resistant, shock resistant, stealth mode, heart rate monitor, compass… _GPS_!? Petey, this is actually better than the one I was planning to get!”

Peter does a little victory dance in his head but tries to appear nonchalant on the outside.

“Also, funny that you got me this, because…” Wade grabs the small bag from under the tree and tosses it to Peter.

Nearly spilling his coffee, Peter fumbles to catch the bag. He allows the item inside to slide out onto his lap. When he spots the watch box, he starts laughing. Setting his mug down, he opens the box to reveal a silver watch, though this one is built more for design than for the field.

“I noticed the old band of your watch when we went to that wedding. Figured you should have something a bit spiffier with the five hundred other weddings you need to go to.”

Peter’s face falls. “I don’t think I can survive even ten more. Why would you say that?”

As Wade laughs, he tries on his new watch, struggling to set the time because he hasn’t read the instructions yet. Peter, being on a similar wavelength, does the same exact thing, huffing in frustration when he can’t figure out how to change the date. They spend a good ten minutes trying to set up their gifts before Wade, finally victorious over the basic functions, jumps to his feet with a loud whoop.

“What movie do you want to watch first?”

Peter, still trying to get the time on his watch _just right,_ looks up at Wade to see him making awkward poses, all to show off his watch to an imaginary audience. He laughs softly at Wade’s excitement before replying. “Whatever you want.”

As they watch _A Christmas Story_ , Peter notices Wade peeking down at his watch and grinning, that is, when he’s not quoting lines and making fun of The Old Man. The next time Wade peeks down at his watch, pressing a button to show his bpm, Peter clears his throat to get Wade’s attention.

“Do you have any plans for New Years Eve?”

Wade opens his mouth to tell Peter about something going on at Sister Margaret’s, but stops himself. He shakes his head no.

“Really? Nothing?”

“Why? Is there something going on?”

“Want to go to a pub with my old college club buddies? I know you don’t know them, but—”

“Hey, anyone who knew you during your embarrassing college days is a friend of mine.”

Peter tries to recall if there is anything truly disconcerting that his club members might know. When he comes up with nothing, he asks, “So, is that a ‘yes?’”

“Of course,” Wade mumbles as he lays down, attempting to rest his head on Peter’s lap.

He stops mid-motion when Peter scoots away, now leaning up against the arm of the couch. Wade frowns as he sits up, but then Peter pats his thigh twice. “C’mon. Was just tryna make sure you got room to stretch out.”

And Wade does stretch out, taking up as much of the sofa as possible while resting his head on Peter’s leg. He spends the next few minutes grinning to himself as he toys with a loose string on the knee of Peter’s pants, and he ends up missing his favorite scene in the movie. Wade still considers this one of the best Christmas mornings ever, even without the chance to mock the iconic tongue-stuck-to-the-flagpole scene.

\- - - - - - -

On New Years Eve, Wade let’s himself into Peter’s apartment and shakes like a wet dog to get all the snow off.

“You couldn’t do that out in the hall at least!?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Peter steps into the bathroom to shave, making the mistake of leaving the door open. Wade stands in the doorway and alternates between complaining about the crowds outside and teasing Peter about trying to look good for someone tonight. Peter tries to assure him that there is absolutely no one from his college days that he is even remotely attracted to, but Wade doesn’t buy it.

_He says that but when does he ever shave before meeting up with friends? Really fucking hope there’s not actually anyone at the party tonight that he’s into._

When Peter is finally ready to go, he slips on a jacket and heads to the door. He barely manages to get his hand on the lock when Wade pulls him back in. He grabs the edges of Peter’s hood and pulls it up, quickly zipping up the jacket the rest of the way. As Peter tries to swat at his hands, Wade struggles to button the flaps just under the chin.

“I just came from out there. You need to bundle up before you catch your death.”

“Did Aunt May possess you just now?”

“She’s a wise woman, you should listen to her.” Wade punctuates his remarks by yanking on the strings of Peter’s hood, causing it to tighten far too much and cover Peter’s eyes and mouth.

As Peter tries to fix it, Wade makes motions to lead the way out of the apartment. Before he can step out the door, Peter pushes it shut.

“Wait right there!”

Wade watches as Peter races into the back room, the one filled with a bunch of boxes. He soon returns carrying a blue scarf. Wade assumes Peter is going to take his comment about bundling up seriously until Peter starts wrapping the scarf around Wade’s neck.

“I don’t care about your regenerating ability. You’re still not getting frostbite.”

“But I don’t—mmph!”

Peter wraps the last part of the scarf directly over Wade’s face, cutting him off. Wade protests silently by standing in place, refusing to fix the scarf himself or move despite Peter saying, “Let’s go.”

A few seconds pass, and Peter gives in, tugging down the scarf just enough to expose Wade’s eyes.

“You’re an ass,” Wade states flatly.

Peter elects not to point out how he has essentially mimicked Wade. “C’mon. We’re already past being fashionably late.”

By the time they reach the bar, Peter realizes that Wade might have been right about his claim that the crowd in Times Square is bleeding out into New Jersey. It’s already 9 p.m., but there are still mass groups of people bustling about, attempting to hurry to their next party. They eventually make it to the right pub, thankful that it is divey enough to not be nearly as packed as some of the more popular bars they’ve passed along the way.

Peter grabs Wade’s hand as he weaves his way through the crowd, trying to find his friends. He manages to spot them in two side booths after backtracking. During the round of handshakes and one-armed hugs, Peter introduced Wade to his friends, causing a confused mess of greetings from every direction.

After some shuffling, Wade and Peter manage to squeeze onto one of the booth benches together. Wade tries to give Peter some room by keeping part of one leg out in the aisle. However, Peter notices this and points out the tripping hazard, making Wade scoot closer until their thighs are flush against each other.

Peter worries that Wade might not feel comfortable around his friends, especially since there is no one in the group that he’s met before. He knows that Wade can appear outgoing, but he’s still cautious when meeting new people. Peter makes it a point to give Wade attention and ask him if he’s doing all right, but the tables are too noisy, and he keeps getting pulled into different conversations.

In an attempt to let Wade know he isn’t ignoring him, he gently places a hand on Wade’s knee, patting it a few times. After about a minute, Wade slowly removes one hand from the beer he’s clutching and slides it under the table. Peter feels a weight on top of his hand and is quick to give Wade a small smile before turning back to his friend to answer her question. Wade continues his conversation with the person sitting across from him, detailing the PG version of his last trip to Japan. He keeps his hand on top of Peter’s the entire time, only removing it when someone pulls out a deck of cards for King’s Cup.

They spend the next few hours knocking back their glasses, playing drinking games, and embarrassing each other with stories of their pasts. Peter doesn’t put up much of a fight every time they try to tell Wade a new story about him. He’s just thankful that MJ isn’t here since she can tell stories that would make Peter want to _THWIP_ out of there in a Spidey-shaped cloud.

Peter finds himself having more fun than expected and is surprised to find that the countdown is about to begin. It feels like there are still a couple more hours before midnight. As soon as a handful of patrons shout “SIXTY”, Wade grabs Peter’s arms and drags him out of the booth so they can better see one of the smaller TV screens. Peter resists at first, just so he can down the rest of his old-fashioned, but allows himself to be dragged off soon as he puts his glass down. By the time they find a good spot, there’s only thirty seconds left. Wade throws an arm around Peter’s shoulders and starts counting along with the crowd, Peter joining in a second after. Peter counts with everyone a few seconds, but thinks he sees something flash in his peripheral vision.

“TWENTY!”

He glances over at Wade when he sees the same flash again.

“NINETEEN!”

Wade throws his arm in the air, a nearly empty beer bottle still in his hand.

“EIGHTEEN!”

When he does it again, Peter notices how the light catches on the bottle.

“SEVENTEEN!”

He grins at Wade who keeps fist pumping with each second.

“SIXTEEN!”

His eyes drift back down to Wade’s lips.

“FIFTEEN!”

He watches them mouth the next number.

“FOURTEEN!”

And the next.

“THIRTEEN!”

Peter’s grin fades slightly when he finally understands.

“TWELVE!”

_I want the flirting to be serious._

“ELEVEN!”

_I want to kiss him, but not just now._

“TEN!”

_I want to kiss him whenever I want._

“NINE!”

_I want us to be—_

“EIGHT!”

Peter suddenly remembers something from nearly a year before.

“SEVEN!”

Scenes of them making the marriage pact fill his mind.

“SIX!”

His chest aches from the want.

“FIVE!”

_I don’t want a silly marriage pact._

“FOUR!”

_I want us to be together._

“THREE!”

_I want to hit forty—_

“TWO!”

_—and have a serious talk about getting hitched._

“ONE!”

_I want—_

Wade uses the arm that’s around Peter’s shoulders to pull him in for a hug as he shouts “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” along with the crowd. As the patrons sing _Auld Lang Syne_ and cheer along with the fireworks on TV, Wade wraps both arms tightly around Peter, wishing him an even better year this year. Peter realizes he hasn’t hugged back and starts to bring his own arms up around Wade. However, Wade pulls back a moment before he can complete the hug, grinning at Peter. He says something, but Peter can’t make it out a word over the crowd. His eyes drift down to Wade’s lips again, and he wills himself to close the distance.

_But when Wade did that to you, you yelled at him._

Peter’s eyes dart up to Wade’s, and he gives him a worried look, not sure anymore if he should act on his newly realized feelings.

Wade is in the middle of asking Peter about any resolutions he might have when Peter suddenly looks straight at him, brows furrowed. Believing Peter didn’t understand the question, Wade repeats himself. He sees Peter’s face soften, but still, he doesn’t reply. Then Peter smiles at him, clapping him on the shoulder. Wade can tell by Peter’s lips that he’s saying “Happy New Year,” but he can’t make out whatever is said after that.

He leans in to ask Peter to repeat himself and sees Peter’s eyes move down. Wade does the same reflexively, he spots Peter licking his lower lip. He feels himself mirroring the action before glancing back up. Locking eyes with Peter, he feels a strong urge to lean in and press his lips against Peter’s, but he remembers what happened last time, and he knows better than to push boundaries like that again.

Sighing heavily, Wade tears his gaze away and forces himself to find something else to focus on. The crowd is rowdier now, and it’s starting to become a bit over-stimulating for him. He feels someone bump his hand and realizes he’s still carrying a beer bottle. He pretends all his attention is on reading the label as he focuses on stabilizing his breathing, trying to get his heart to calm down. He feels Peter move beside him, and it distracts him, causing him to look over. He sees two of Peter’s friends pulling him into a hug, and as more of his former club members manage to reach them, it turns into an awkward, shuffling group hug. However, Wade can only see Peter. Everyone else is just a blur to him. He watches, smiling because Peter is smiling, but Wade still feels sad inside.

_It doesn’t matter how hard you try, Peter will never see you as anything but a friend. And if that’s what he wants, just be happy with that. At least you still have him in your life._

Just then, a loud cheer erupts from Peter’s group of friends. Wade squints around, looking for the cause when he notices one of the girls crying and holding up her left hand awkwardly. When he spots the glint of a ring, he realizes that a New Year’s proposal has occurred. He catches Peter pushing his way towards him, eventually reaching him and sliding an arm around his waist.

“Sweet, isn’t it?” Peter asks before jerking his head towards the newly engaged couple. “Whoever said romance is dead has never slurred out a proposal in a dive bar.”

Wade tries to stop himself from laughing but ends up making himself guffaw loud enough to turn several heads. “Man, whatever. I’m not picky like you. If it was me, all I’d need is a ring, you know, so I can tell that it’s not a prank. Otherwise, I don’t care about anything else.”

Peter starts to tease Wade about his comment but stops himself when he remembers the set-up of their marriage pact. Peter was depressed and looked a hot mess while Wade was still a bit sweaty from that night’s patrol. They were in a greasy diner with even greaser food.

_And even in such an environment, Wade still found the perfect time to blurt out, “Marry me.”_

Wade sees a couple of Peter’s friends saying goodbye and takes the chance to ask Peter if he wants to leave as well.

“Sure. Let’s get out of here before the streets get too crowded.”

Peter removes his arm from around Wade and takes the bottle from him, setting it down on a nearby table. Wade leads the way out of the bar and feels someone grab onto the back of his coat. He peers behind himself and sees Peter stumbling to keep up. Reaching back, Wade grabs Peter’s hand. It takes a while, but they eventually make it out onto the streets. The only reason Wade lets go of Peter’s hand is so that they can bundle up further.

They walk in silence against the cold breeze, their sudden lack of conversation causing Wade to fall deep into thoughts. He recalls the proposal he made, how Peter kept close to him all night long, how he looked up at Wade when the ball dropped, and how much Wade had to fight against the urge to kiss him right then and there. He peeks over at Peter and thinks about his comment on the dive bar proposal. It only makes his mind race even more.

 _Is that how he views our marriage pact? Does he think it's just a joke? Does he even take it seriously? Was it not good enough for him? I mean, I hardly took it seriously at first, but… now I wish it_ was _serious._

He knows he just told himself not that long ago to be satisfied with their friendship the way it is, but there are so many signs telling him to propose for a second time, to really make Peter understand that he’s serious.

In the middle of Wade’s internal debate, they reach the intersection where they need to part ways for the night. Wade starts unwrapping the scarf around his neck to give it back to Peter, but Peter grabs his wrist while shaking his head. The wind picks up, making it too chilly to stand around aimlessly and talk, so Wade simply nods, a silent agreement to keep the scarf. Peter lets go, but instead of lowering his arms, he slides them around Wade, embracing him one last time.

Wade holds him close, his impulsivity screaming at him to bring up that pact right here, right now.

Peter, still high off the excitement from the night, tightens his grip on Wade and briefly nuzzles his face against Wade’s neck. Wade feels Peter pressing closer to him but tells himself it’s because of the cold. It’s this that stops him from saying anything further.

_No, Petey deserves something better than an awkward conversation on the sidewalk as he freezes to death._

Wade pulls back and gestures for Peter to get going. Peter nods and waves as he turns away, speed-walking towards the road that’ll lead him home to his apartment. Wade watches him go until Peter turns and looks back at him. He makes the same gesture Wade did, encouraging him to head home himself. Wade raises his hand briefly in response before turning around, heading towards his own apartment for the night.

Two weeks later, Wade shows up late at night to Peter’s apartment with a bag full of bagels and schmear. He plops them on the counter as he announces that he has obtained Peter’s favorite thing in the world.

“Deep, restful sleep?”

Wade thinks for a moment. “Second favorite thing in the world. Free carbs.”

“Ooo. That _is_ a close second.” Peter gets up from the couch and goes into the kitchen to see what bready goodness Wade has brought him. Wade starts pulling out the napkins and the two large containers of schmear from the bag. “Wait a minute, just how much did you get?”

Wade tilts the bag towards Peter. “A baker’s dozen.”

“Why a baker’s dozen?”

“One: why not? Two: the owner said he was going to have to throw all of these out anyways. And three: with this many, we can each get a half dozen, but we’ll have to wrestle for the last one.”

“You can have the last one. I won’t wrestle for a bagel, nonetheless an expired one.”

“ _Expired!?_ You say that like you still won’t eat these!”

“Oh, I will. I just recognize that I probably shouldn’t.”

Over the next two nights, they manage to work their way through most of the bagels, struggling to find ways to properly heat them without making them too hard or chewy. Finally, on the third day, there is only one bagel left. Wade places it on a plate and poses with it as he asks Peter once again if he’s sure that he doesn’t want to wrestle for it. Peter pours himself another cup of coffee as he assures Wade that no bagel is worth physical exertion.

“But Petey, come on! I know you want it!”

Peter eyes him over his mug. “Nope. Won’t do it.”

“Fine!” Wade sits the plate down on the counter and turns towards the fridge to grab the last of the schmear. “You’re always such a spoilsport. You could just—” Wade stops when he sees sudden movement, pivoting back towards Peter in time to see him run out of the kitchen. He glances at the now-empty plate. “YOU ASSHAT!”

Wade books it to the living room, chasing Peter around the coffee table twice before deciding to leap over it. Peter rushes into his bedroom and snatches something off his dresser. Wade has nearly caught up as Peter rounds his bed, heading towards a dead end, as far as floor space is concerned. However, Wade’s attempt to corner him fails when he hears a familiar _thwip._ Peter flies up and over his bed. Wade tries to run across the bed, but he trips over the blankets still piled in the middle, causing him to fall over the edge of the mattress and land on the floor. Hissing in pain as he slowly rolls overs, Wade rubs his lower back. He lies on his side for a few moments, before carefully standing back up.

After stretching and popping his back, Wade feels well enough to continue the chase. He listens closely for any sound of Peter and hears the tap of something metallic in the kitchen. Wade rushes there and spots Peter staring at him in horror, the bagel still in hand. Apparently, he’s had enough time to cut it and spread some schmear.

“I’ll be taking that back, now, thank you!”

“I don’t think so!”

Peter tries to rush past him, but Wade grabs him around the middle. Resisting the urge to use his superstrength in order to keep this a fair fight, Peter squirms against Wade’s arm until he manages to slip free. Wade is on his heels as they run back into the living room. When it looks like Peter is about to attempt another circuit around the coffee table, Wade lunges across it, sending an unsuspecting stack of mail flying. He ends up tackling Peter, and both men fall against the edge of the couch. Their combined weight causes them to slide onto the floor in the narrow space between the sofa and the coffee table, slightly shifting the latter.

Wade sits up just enough to throw a leg over Peter, straddling his lower stomach. Peter tries to turn his body so he can crawl away, but Wade throws himself forward and catches his arms, pinning him down by both wrists. In this position, his face is just inches from Peter’s. They keep looking at each other, breathing hard from their short chase around the apartment. Peeking down at Peter’s lips, Wade can’t bring himself to look away and struggles to convince himself not to do what he’s thinking. He feels Peter squirming underneath him, but it’s not enough to divert his attention completely.

Suddenly, he feels Peter jerk his right arm out of his grip. Before he can react, Peter brings the bagel to his mouth and takes a giant bite out of it. Screaming in fury as he sits up, Wade tries to snatch the bagel back. He ends up tearing what was left of it in half.

Satisfied with what he stole back, he slides off of Peter and pushes himself against the coffee table, shifting it until he has enough room for his bottom to hit the floor. Peter sits up as well but remains in his spot on the floor, his hip right against Wade’s although he’s facing away from the man. While still wedged between the furniture, both men take a bite of their torn up piece of bagel. Seeing a chance opportunity, Wade snakes an arm around Peter’s front until his hand is snug between the sofa and Peter’s other hip.

He leans close to Peter’s ear before whispering, “That was dirty.”

Peter shrugs as he chews his next bite of bagel. Once he swallows, he says, “I learned it from the best,” ending his statement with a gentle nudge of his elbow into Wade’s ribs.

Silently, they finish off the last bites of their respective bagels before Wade removes his arm from around Peter and holds out his now free hand to help the semi-successful thief up.

“Now I know better. No more odd number bagels.”

“Oh, you can get an odd number if you want.” Peter gives Wade a wicked grin before continuing. “But keep in mind, I won’t go as easy on you next time.”

The following week, Peter and Wade head out for another night of trivia. They resort to their usual tactic of writing down the most ridiculous response just for giggles when they don’t know the answer. However, tonight’s questions seem more aligned with their interests, and Wade and Peter actually have a real shot of winning first place for once. But that depends on the next three questions.

When Peter points out their current rank on the scoreboard, Wade declares, “No more drinking! No more goofing off! We are getting that fucking gift certificate, and I’m buying you dinner... or maybe just a few drinks at the bar; I don’t know if I trust the food here.”

Peter laughs as he picks up his piece of chalk, ready to write down their response.

The emcee poses the next question. “What is the term for letting dough rise before baking?”

With a grumble, Peter says, “I know I should have listened to Aunt May when—”

“Proofing.”

“What?”

“Proofing!” Wade hisses as he takes the tiny chalkboard from Peter to write the response himself. “It’s called ‘proofing,’ and yes, you should have listened to Aunt May more.”

“Wait, when did she—”

“You know I’ve baked with her a few times right?”

“Oh, right, you did come over like a couple times before to help her out.”

“More like once a month for over two years thanks to her church functions.”

Peter watches as Wade holds up the board when asked to, celebrating with a short cheer and fist pump when they give his team another point.

_How have I not noticed that he’s been so involved in my life his whole time? He probably knows things about Aunt May that I don’t even know…_

Peter focuses back on the competition when Wade hands him back the piece of chalk just as the emcee states the penultimate question. “Name the country group that covered this song.”

A Christmas song starts playing and cuts off after a few seconds. Peter starts writing out a response without even consulting Wade, who’s peeking over at the chalkboard.

“How did you know that? Was if from that Christmas—Oh my god! YOU—” Wade leans in and whispers after Peter gestures for him to lower his voice. “You Spideyfied this song, didn’t you!?”

“We changed it to _Swingin’_ instead of _Hangin’ Around the Mistletoe_.” Peter mumbles as he turns the board over, waiting to raise it up for the emcee. He glances over at Wade who buries his face in his arms. Peter assumes Wade’s laughing based on how his shoulders are shaking.

When the emcee confirms that the correct answer is indeed ‘Brooks & Dunn,’ Peter says, “I guess one good things came out of making that stupid album.”

Wade laughs even harder, making plans to play the album just to embarrass Peter later.

The pub starts to simmer down as the emcee reads the final question of the night. “Name TWO members of the Brat Pack that were NOT in _The Breakfast Club_.”

As the emcee repeats the question, adding even more emphasis this time, Wade bounces in his seat and steals the chalkboard back from Peter, writing down the response immediately.

“Wait, what’s this ‘Brat Pack’ and what does it got to do with—Wade!”

Hearing his name causes Wade’s hand to slip, and the chalk screeches across the board while writing ‘Rob Lowe.’ He slowly turns and glares at Peter. “You don’t know who the Brat Pack are!? Those teens that were in _all_ the 80’s films!? Peter! How are you this old and you—Jesus, Fuck! Way to make me feel like I’m decrepit and not doing anything with my life!” Wade wipes away the long mark he previously made and adds ‘Andrew McCarthy’ to the answer, slapping the board down on the table once he’s done.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know the term for them. But I do know they were in all those coming-of-age movies I watched growing up.”

“I don’t believe you! I’m going to make you watch all the films in order of their release date. _And_ a bunch of John Hughes films for good measure. Make sure we cover all your bases.”

Peter starts to protest that he really has seen all the films, but the emcee’s voice cuts in, asking them to raise their boards.

As they start tallying up the answers, Wade says, “I’m serious Petey. You’re coming over this weekend, and we’re going to get our _Ferris Bueller_ and _The Outsiders_ on. Wait, should we start with _Ferris Bueller_ or would it better for you to first see—”

The emcee’s voice comes over the mic once again. “The winners are Team Spandex & Leather!”

Wade and Peter freeze for a moment, before jumping up and hugging each other, cheering all the while. As Wade waves the chalkboard in the air and declares himself the king of useless facts, Peter presses his lips firmly on Wade’s cheek. Wade’s first decree as king gets cut short as he lowers the chalkboard and looks at Peter.

Peter is about to apologize for getting carried away when Wade cuts him off by gently tapping him on the nose with his fingertip. “Now you stop that before I do something crazy like marry you.”

Before Peter can even process the words, Wade darts off towards the stage to claim their gift certificate for the pub. He watches Wade heads straight to the bar with it, most likely to spend it before the ink dries. As he sits back down and finishes the beer that’s already on the table, Peter thinks about Wade’s last comment.

_If you think that’s supposed to discourage me from doing it again, you’re wrong._

_Wait… good grief… I sound like him now._

Wade returns from the bar carrying an entire tray held just high enough to prevent Peter from seeing the contents until Wade places it on the table, nudging aside their current cluster of empty bottles. As a waitress rushes over to help clear the table and take back the tray, Wade passes out two Johnnie Walker Black and Cokes, two old fashioneds, a basket of wings, and a platter of cheese fries.

Peter stares at the spread incredulously. “Just how much was that gift certificate!?”

Wade thanks the waitress and takes his seat, pulling one of the old fashioneds closer. He thinks for a moment before saying, “Maybe enough to cover the Black Labels, but I doubt much else.”

“Wait, so you just bought the rest yourself?”

Wade pokes at the orange peel in his glass. “I said I’d buy you dinner,” he replies, his voice a little muffled from placing the drink to his mouth and ending his statement with a sip.

Feeling a little guilty, Peter starts to pull out his wallet, but Wade grabs his wrist.

“Don’t need to do all that.”

“But you just—”

“It’s been a while since I took you out. Just let me do this.”

Peter allows it, but he does buy one more round of drinks under the guise of toasting their first trivia night win.

The meal and all the drinks cause the men to stick around the pub a lot longer than they had originally intended, only leaving when both admit to feeling a little drowsy. After they close their tabs and start to make their way home, Wade brings up the Brat Pack movies again. Once Peter realizes how excited Wade is about it and how he can use this to spend more time over at Wade’s apartment, Peter agrees to another movie marathon on one condition.

“As long as I get to pick which movies we’re watching because I don’t think I have the heart to watch _The Outsiders_ again right now.”

“Fair. But I’m still making a checklist once I get home.”

However, on the next block, Wade doesn’t make the usual turn to head to his apartment. When Peter points this out, Wade links an arm with Peter and leads them across the street. “Decided to walk you home so I can get my merit badge for helping the elderly cross the road.”

Peter tries to pull his arm away from Wade, but Wade only holds on tighter and reaches over with his free hand to grip Peter’s upper arm. With a sigh, Peter gives in and allows Wade to walk him home, arms linked the whole time.

When they finally make it to Peter’s apartment, Wade unlocks the door and tails Peter inside, intent on following through with his real reason for walking Peter home. Recently, he’s been thinking about Christmas morning, how Peter had allowed him to stay in bed with him. He’s been waiting for an excuse to do it again, to catch Peter sleeping in or napping, but it hasn’t happened yet. So now he’s trying to make an excuse for it instead of waiting around for a golden opportunity.

Since Peter is so used to Wade inviting himself over now, he doesn’t think much about Wade stepping inside and making himself comfortable. Once he sees Wade stripping out of his coat and boots, he knows that he intends on staying for a while, but he doesn’t stop him. Instead, he simply tells Wade he doesn’t plan on staying up late tonight and hopes he lets himself out when the time comes.

They chat idly on the couch with Peter lounging in a position that will most likely hurt his back once he stands. Seeing him so relaxed, Wade takes the opportunity to stretch out and place his feet on Peter’s lap. They make loose plans for the rest of the week from hanging out and to patrolling before the conversation dies down; both feel worn from all the drinking and the late hour.

Peter gets up to ready himself for bed, but Wade doesn’t make any motion to leave. Before heading into his bedroom for the night, Peter tells Wade that he’s turning in; it’s his indirect way to let Wade know that if he’s been trying to find a time to leave, now is that time.

“All right. I’ll probably just crash here tonight myself. Too tired to make it to my own apartment at this rate.”

Peter stares at him for a moment before saying, “Extra blankets are in the back room. And you should know where everything else is by now, so if you need anything, help yourself.”

Wade nods and thanks him. Right as Peter steps into his room, Wade adds, “Actually, that sounds like too much work. Think I’ll just crawl into bed with you.”

There’s a few seconds of silence before Wade hears Peter’s voice coming from the bedroom. “Whatever you want.”

Wade wastes no time darting across the room, sliding on the floor as he turns down the hall, and barging into the master bedroom. Since neither bothered with the lights upon entering, Wade has to fumble his way towards the bed. He feels his knee hit the corner of it and stumbles around to the other side, bumping into Peter in the process. Peter panics at first, not expecting Wade to be on the far side of the bed like this, and acts on instinct, pushing Wade away. The action only causes Wade to redouble his efforts to get into the bed he’s so deadset on sharing with Peter tonight. Between the darkness of the room and both men not knowing what the other is trying to do, a small scuffle ensues.

It only takes a minute for Wade to shout, “You just said I could sleep here!”

“Yes, but not _here_!”

“THAT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE! YOU SAID WHATEVER I WANT! AND _I_ WANT—”

“BUT _I_ SLEEP BY THE _WINDOW_!” Peter lets go of Wade’s arm, feeling a bit foolish over the whole pseudo-fray as he reaches over and turns on the lamp. Using the light to show what he means, Peter points to the part of the mattress closest to him. “This is my side.” He then points to the far side of the mattress. “That’s yours.”

Wade narrows his eyes at Peter. “I’ve seen you napping before. You rarely ever stick to a side, and when you do, it’s that side way over there. So, I don’t know how you can suddenly—”

“I was by myself! Of course I’m going to claim whatever side of the bed I want! There’s no one here to tell me otherwise if I want to sleep here, there, or even sideways.” Peter sits down on his side of the bed and gives Wade a challenging look. “But if you’re going to be here with me tonight, I’d rather be on this side. Now go grab some pajamas from the dresser, third drawer. You’re not wearing your bar clothes to bed.”

Wade grumbles as he heads to said dresser, pulling out a pair of pajama bottoms.

“By the way, you left the lights on,” Peter says flatly.

Wade’s eyes dart towards the lamp before he gives Peter a confused look. Peter jerks his head towards the bedroom door, prompting Wade to spin around. He sees the faded glow coming from the front of the hall, indicating that the lights are still on in the living room.

“You were the last one in there so you have to get them.”

Wade throws his head back and groans, balling up the pajamas in his fist. He shuts the dresser drawer with a huff and makes his way to the living room, peeling out of his shirt as he goes. He angrily kicks off his pants as he makes his way to the other side of the room towards the light switch. Between the childlike fit and seeing his clothes laying haphazardly on the floor when he turns back around, Wade feels a little better. He takes his socks off and throws those too, just for good measure. As he slips on the borrowed pajama bottoms, he realizes his little moment of catharsis might annoy Peter in the morning, so he goes and collects his clothes, piling them up on the couch. After turning off the lights, Wade treks back to the bedroom and wonders why he even fought with Peter about which side of the bed he sleeps on, ultimately deciding to just let it go.

_Besides, why would I risk giving him a reason to kick me out now?_

Once Wade makes it to the bed, he notices that Peter is lying on his side, close to the edge of the mattress. He’s tempted to tell Peter that he doesn’t need that much space, but then worries that Peter might be trying to ensure there’s some added space between them.

_But he said you can sleep here. If he was really worried about touching you in the middle of the night, he could have just said ‘no’ instead._

Wade hesitates before pulling back the covers and lying down as Peter turns off the lamp. Without much thought, Wade stretches and bumps his hand into Peter’s arm. Peter hums in response, and Wade mumbles out an apology reflexively.

“’S cool. G’dnight.”

“Night, Petey Pie,” Wade whispers as he turns onto his side so he can face Peter.

He lies there, fighting the urge to put his arm around Peter. When Peter starts to snore softly, Wade feels himself losing the battle against his wants and eventually compromises by placing a hand on Peter’s arm. The contact is up high, close to Peter’s shoulder, so no one can say Wade was trying to take advantage of the situation. It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep after that.

The next morning, Wade wakes up to find Peter is much closer to him now, their faces only a few inches apart since Peter’s head is nearly in between their pillows at this point. Wade watches him sleep for a moment before carefully looking for his phone, suddenly realizing that it’s most likely still in the pocket of his jeans back in the living room. He cranes his neck to search the room for a clock and squints against the bright sunlight reflecting off of Peter’s own phone on the nightstand. Upon further inspection, he notices the light extending all the way across Peter’s pillow. He looks for the source and spots the broken slats in the blinds. Carefully, he settles back onto the bed, softly lowering his head to his pillow so that he doesn’t disturb Peter.

_He has to know about that tear; it’s not like it happened mysteriously in the middle of the night. So why would Petey be so adamant about sleeping by the window when—_

_Wait. No. No, he—_

_Did he really fight over the sides of the bed so I won’t get blinded first thing in the morning?_

Wade turns his head and grins at Peter, reaching up gingerly to brush back Peter’s hair. He mouths the words ‘thank you’ before lowering his hand and closing his eyes, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep until they need to get up.

About half an hour later, Peter wakes up. As he stirs, he glances over at Wade, noticing the blankets are pushed down around his waist and that he’s not wearing a shirt. He squints as he tries to remember if he saw Wade wearing a shirt to bed last night or not. Cautiously, reaches over and places a hand on Wade, high on his chest. As soon as he feels how cool the skin is, he reaches down and pulls the covers back up over Wade.

Lying on his side, Peter watches him for a moment before inching closer. He moves until the front of his body barely touches Wade’s arm. That’s all it takes to convince himself this close proximity is purely to give some added body heat.

\- - - - - - -

On the last weekend in February, Peter heads over to Wade’s place to watch a few Molly Ringwald movies.

They start with _Sixteen Candles_ , “a classic but certainly not the best Brat Pack film” according to Wade. They joke around and make commentary about the movie more than they typically would during one of their movie nights. However, the conversation dies down closer to the end of the film, and they only make quiet musings by the time they reach the scene where Sam’s family is heading to the wedding. As Peter watches the church sequence, he worries about MJ’s upcoming wedding; he still hasn’t found a plus one.

_But it’s not like I’ve been looking. If anything, I’ve just been relying on Wade saying he’d go with me if all else fails._

Peter glances over at Wade who’s mouthing the words from the film with a dramatic face. A quiet chuckle escapes Peter’s lips, prompting Wade to look over at him.

Wade stares for a moment before smirking. “What?”

“Nothing.” Peter looks back to the TV for a few seconds before turning his whole body to face Wade. “Actually, I have something to ask you.”

Wade’s stares at the screen but gestures with a hand for Peter to continue.

“Are you still free to go to MJ’s wedding with me?”

“Haven’t found your plus one yet?”

Peter stalls, trying to formulate the best way to tell Wade. “It’s not so much that I haven’t found one. I just thought… maybe you could _be_ my plus one instead of being a failsafe.”

Wade ends up cracking his neck from how fast he turns it to look at Peter. “Oh, so you want—I can—yeah, I can go with you, Petey Pie. It would be an honor.”

“Awesome! It’s a date! I’ll get you the info once I go home and look at the invite again.” Peter turns on the couch so he’s sitting properly again. He feels a weight lift off his chest, not realizing until that moment how stressed he has been about asking Wade to be his official plus one.

Meanwhile, Wade is struggling to keep his cool, his right hand digging into the arm of his couch to keep himself from celebrating in front of Peter. He manages to wait a few seconds before excusing himself from the room.

“Want me to pause the—”

“NO! I mean—No, you don’t need to.”

Wade wants the film to keep playing so Peter won’t hear him. He manages to look composed as he heads into his bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him. Once the door is shut, he screams silently while punching and kicking the air. He makes the celebration more mobile as he paces the room; it probably looks like he can’t decide if he wants to dance or fight an invisible monster.

“It’s a date! _He_ said ‘It’s a date!’” Wade whispers harshly, trying his best not to voice his feelings too loudly. “I know he probably doesn’t mean it like that, but COME ON! It’s a wedding reception! Those are _always_ a date, not just ‘oh, hey, platonic buddy, let’s dance and eat cake and celebrate romance together.’ It’s a fucking DATE!”

Wade whoops loudly before jumping up onto the mattress of his bed. As he bounces up and down, chanting “It’s a date! It’s a date!” he hears Peter’s voice from the other room.

“You all right in there?”

Wade fumbles his next step and falls back against the headboard of his bed. It’s only then he realizes how noisey his bed was while he jumped.

“Yup! Perfectly fine!” Wade shouts back before lowering his voice. “Because we’re going on a date!”

He squeals in delight, clapping his hands, but calms down when he realizes the wedding is in June, so there are still several months until their date.

_Dammit! Where’s the shotgun wedding when you need one!?_

Wade crawls off his bed and takes a few deep breaths. After straightening out his clothes and telling himself to ‘be cool, ’Pool,’ he heads for the living room.

“You just missed the ending.”

“Oh, where pretty boy shows up with a cake and her panties? GOOD! Not a fan of that scene.”

Peter nods in agreement as he starts the next film, _The Breakfast Club_. It doesn’t take long for Wade to bring out some drinks, setting them on the edge of the coffee table to separate them from the empty bottles he still hasn’t cleaned up from earlier in the week.

“We should make a drinking game out of this.”

Pausing the film, Peter asks, “What did you have in mind?”

They take a few minutes crafting a list of rules in Wade’s mission notebook. Wade makes sure to have two rules per each of the five main characters, one for the Assistant Principal, and another rule about the soundtrack to make it a nice even twelve. Peter is hesitant at first, telling Wade they’re probably not going to make it halfway through the movie at this rate.

“It’s fine. If you end up drinking yourself under the table, you can just crash here.”

“That’s not what I was talking about. I meant—” Peter gives up when Wade restarts the film and passes the bottle opener to Peter. With a defeated sigh, Peter uncaps two bottles for them, telling himself to take the smallest sips possible each time he drinks.

It doesn’t take long for Peter to realize that he really is taking far too few sips. He’s not even a quarter of the way through his bottle when Wade grabs a second one. Yet, Peter still tries to stay closer to sober, wanting to avoid a hangover. As the flick progresses, they spend more time making fun of it than actually watching it. Wade eventually starts taking long swigs at random times “in case I missed a few rules.” Peter’s only managed half a bottle at this point.

Soon, their jokes about the film turn into a playful argument with Wade eventually shoving at Peter as he tells him to not besmirch Judd Nelson’s character that way. Peter tries to shove him back and ends up being a little too forceful, nearly pushing Wade over on the couch.In retaliation, Wade pounces on Peter, essentially crawling into his lap in the process. He pokes at Peter’s belly, demanding he to take back what he said about John Bender. Not wanting Wade to know that he’s ticklish, Peter tries his hardest not to laugh as he admits defeat, saying he was wrong and will never speak ill of John again.

“That’s what I thought, punk!” Wade nods once in satisfaction before sliding off Peter until his butt hits the couch cushion. However, he doesn’t go back to his side of the sofa and instead shifts so his legs rest over Peter’s thighs and his arm wraps around Peter’s shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Sticking close in case you try to say shit again.”

Peter rolls his eyes but allows Wade to stay in place. It doesn’t take long for them to resume talking smack as they fight over whether or not one of the scenes counts as three drinks or one. Their bickering quickly escalates into subtle jostling and a few personal but trivial attacks. That is until Wade brings up Peter’s age. He typically makes fun of Peter’s “old man moments,” but never his actual age, so it comes as a shock to Peter to hear Wade say “creeping towards 40.”

“Says the man who already hobbled past that mile marker _years_ ago, or did you forget you already beat me to the 40s?”

Wade makes a face of shock and Peter realizes that Wade really did forget that he’s older. Peter can’t stop laughing. He feels his stomach and his sides ache as Wade tries to argue back. However, his defense soon turns into relentless self-dragging, and Peter can no longer see Wade, not with all the tears in his eyes.

Peter begins coughing, choking on the laughs, but Wade only pats him on the back as he makes jokes about “black lung,” “the great war,” and other things that don’t make much sense. Once Peter calms down enough to chuckle between gasps of breath, no longer coughing, Wade pulls him closer. Peter takes the chance to rest his head on Wade’s shoulder.

As Peter uses one hand to wipe away tears, he glances up at Wade and realizes that he’s also trying hard not to laugh. He feels a sudden urge, one that he’s felt plenty of time before during these past few weeks, but now the euphoria of the last few minutes has finally lowered his guard enough to act on it. Peter lifts his head slightly and soft chuckles continue to escape him. He watches as Wade reaches over and sets his own bottle down on the table, grabbing two more. He’s still smirking even while popping both caps. When Wade looks up at Peter to ask if he’s ready for another beer, Peter leans forward to kiss him.

Because of Wade’s movements, Peter only manages a quick peck right on the corner of Wade’s mouth which is partially opened from trying to ask Peter a question. Wade freezes and stares at Peter. It only lasts a few seconds, but that is plenty of time for Peter to start panicking as he pulls away from Wade, holding a hand over his mouth. He looks down and sees the two fresh bottles held awkwardly in one of Wade’s hands. Hoping to pretend like nothing happened, Peter rushes to set his bottle on the table and grab one of the new ones from Wade. However, Wade’s legs are still settled on Peter’s lap, making it difficult for him to place his drink on the coffee table. He accidently upends the bottle, knocking over two more on the table in the process. Wade looks over at the sound, sighing heavily.

_Fuck. That’s right. We’ve been knocking them back all night. He probably only did that because he’s too giggly and tipsy._

The thought is sobering to Wade, preventing him from saying what he really wants to say since Peter pulled back. Instead of telling him to try that again, Wade says, “I think we’re going to have to cut you off. You’re starting to act like me and one’s more than enough.”

Peter stutters out something in defense but stops when he realizes Wade’s assumption of his lack of sobriety is the perfect scapegoat for him. He takes one of the fresh bottles from Wade, saying, “Nah. I’m not gonna let you win this game.”

Wade gives him a challenging look before reaching for the remote, rewinding the movie to just before they started all the old age jokes. Within minutes, Bender says something that counts as a drink, and both men take a sip. As Peter pulls his bottle from his lips, he glances down at the table now littered with empty drinks.

_Any other time I’m not the biggest fan of Wade not picking up after himself. But now I’m thankful that his mess means he doesn’t know I’ve been nursing the same beer for over an hour._

Thanks to the drinking game, both men are able to go back to joking around and enjoying the film, even though, in the back of their minds, they are still thinking about that accidental kiss. After the movie, they decide to watch one more, _Pretty in Pink._ Instead of a drinking game, they just make fun of Andie and Duckie the whole time, still taking sips from the last of their beers. 

Halfway through the film, Peter complains about his legs falling asleep, so Wade removes himself, now sitting properly on the couch but still keeping an arm around his shoulders. Peter shifts in response, reversing their previous position by placing his legs over Wade’s lap. Almost immediately, Wade pulls him closer so Peter can rest his head on Wade’s shoulder. This new position is distracting for Wade, making his mind wander through many of his typical daydreams of Peter, but he keeps finding his way out of his imagination as Peter critiques the film.

Near the end of the movie, Peter casually mentions that he’s not a fan of Duckie’s possessiveness, that he’s spending too much time trying to keep Andie to himself and is almost stalkerish about it. Wade, thinking about how to bring up spending the night again, suddenly worries if that was a comment on his behavior, mumbling out, “I’m not that bad, right?”

Peter bolts up, giving Wade an incredulous look. “Where did that come from? Why would you—”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean—I just—”

“Wade, come on now.” Peter’s softer tone silences Wade. “Yeah, you take up a lot of my time, but not because you’re possessive. It’s because you care. You don’t act like Duckie, not even close. I don’t think he would encourage Andie through a marriage with someone else, be there for her during the divorce, or even check in on her when she’s in a funk simply because that’s what friends do and not because he wants to look like some kind of hero. You’re genuinely here for me whereas he’s just trying to go from nice guy to boyfriend.”

Wade wishes he could blame the blush on his cheeks from the alcohol. “So… you’re saying I’m less of an asshole and more of a good friend?”

“A _great_ friend… but also an a-hole some of the time.”

“I’ll take it,” Wade replies with a smirk, knowing damn well that he does deserve that ‘a-hole’ comment thanks to some of his less finer antics.

“I mean, if you really were like Duckie, you’d probably try to stop me from finding a plus one instead of encouraging me to stay open-minded about it.”

“That’s right! I’m your plus one now! I got work to do!”

“Yeah?” Peter looks at Wade in confusion as he leans over and turns off the movie. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t have you embarrass me on the dance floor. We need to start practicing again!”

“Wade, I don’t think that—”

“Exactly!” Wade shouts as he pushes Peter’s legs off of his lap so he can stand. “Don’t think! Just dance!”

Peter starts to protest as Wade pulls him up from the couch, dragging him around the coffee table. Before Peter gets a word out, Wade has already pulled out his phone and is selecting a playlist.

They start from square one with Wade trying to get Peter comfortable moving his arms and hips to the rhythm. Soon, they manage to get Peter’s feet moving, albeit only in a tiny imaginary box on the floor. As Wade tries to get Peter to come out of his shell more, he refuses.

“Wade, this is MJ’s wedding, not some club for 20-somethings.”

“Still doesn’t mean I can’t dance like that if I want to.”

“But _I_ don’t.”

“Fine, let’s try something else then.”

Before Peter can ask what he plans on doing next, Wade snatches his phone from the TV stand and pauses the music. Several seconds pass before a slower song plays. Wade steps into Peter’s personal space again, placing both of his hands on Peter’s waist. Peter feels his heart start to beat faster until Wade says, “Here you go, nice and chill grandpa music.”

“Which one of us is older again?”

Wade pouts and suddenly pulls Peter flush against him, wrapping arms around him as Wade buries his face in the crook of Peter’s neck.

“You’re so mean to me!” Wade fake-sobs into Peter, shaking his shoulders in an exaggerated fashion. Peter pats his back roughly and flatly apologizes. Wade continues to pretend to cry on Peter as he sways them in place, eventually taking small steps. Peter follows his movements, still patting Wade’s back all the while.

Wade spins them in a slow circle before lifting his head, a wicked grin on his face. “Look at you, dancing after all without any protest. Guess I just have to cry on the dance floor to get you to—”

“Don’t you dare.”

“No promises,” Wade says before resting his head on Peter’s shoulder again. “You remember the last wedding we went to. I was so choked up with tears I couldn’t even sit up in the pew.”

“If I remember correctly, you were choked up because you ate that sour—”

“Yes, because of the wedding, exactly.” After a beat, Wade asks, “Because this is MJ’s wedding and all, do you want me to be on my best behavior? Like, no crazy dancing or no—”

“Why would I ask you to go with me if I didn’t want you _as you are_ there?”

Wade presses his face into Peter’s neck, hoping it will prevent Peter from being able to look down and see his goofy smile.

“You’re a great friend, Wade. I—”

“Unlike Duckie.”

Peter chuckles. “Yes, unlike Duckie. And I wouldn’t want to change you at all. Thanks to who you are and how you’ve always been there for me, I’m the person I am today. I honestly don’t think I would have made it this far in life if it weren’t for you.”

The words hit Wade’s heart too hard, making him struggle against bringing up the marriage pact once again. He wants to tell Peter that he’d like to continue being there for him, but by his side, as someone more than just ‘a great friend.’ But when he glances up to speak, all he sees is his own messy apartment, the cracks in the drywall, the beer bottles cluttering the coffee table, a couch that stands out too much solely because of how new and well maintained it is, at least for now.

_I can’t reestablish the pact here. What makes this place any better than the dive bar? The lack of vomit in the bathroom? No, Petey deserves better. I’ll get my act together; I’ll find the perfect location and time. Hell I even get a fucking ring too. I’ll do it right so he knows I mean it. I just… I just need to take my time, plan this right. No more spur of the moment reactions. I need to think more like Petey._

Meanwhile, Peter tries to figure out how to tell Wade that he also wants to be there for him, but as his significant other. He mulls over all of the words he could say, struggling to phrase them just right, but this moment only reminds him of the comments made on New Year's Day.

_...A ring so he knows it’s not a joke. Why would he even think it’s a joke when—Oh. Oh no. That’s right! His ex-wife!_

Peter wraps his arms around Wade and holds him tighter while they slow dance.

_I won’t be like her. I’m not ever going to make you doubt your worth. You’re not anything she might have said you are, you’re not Duckie, and you’re not any of those other borderline toxic characters in these 80s films. You’re a kind soul, and you’re perfect for me, and I’ll make sure you understand that._

He doesn’t know what he wants to say, but he feels like taking a page out of Wade’s book and speaking openly from his heart. “Hey, Wade?”

Wade hums in response.

“I think you—”

Both men jerk to a stop when the next song starts playing, a loud and fast paced salsa. Wade peels himself away from Peter as he goes to grab his phone. “The fuck is wrong with your playlists, Spotify?” Wade grumbles as he pauses the song. He looks over at Peter briefly before going to look for a better playlist. “What were you saying?”

“I was just—” _What was I saying?_ Peter thinks for a moment before attempting to play it off. “It’s getting kinda late. Can we just go to bed now?”

Wade peeks over at Peter, a smile playing at his lips. “Sure thing.”

As they lay in bed, both men struggle with their desire to be closer and trepidation of rehashing the marriage pact they made so long ago. When they do finally drift off to sleep, they both make up their mind to start planning the proper way to bring it up again, but this time, however they do it, will clearly be a proposal.


	5. Spring: Two Rings

On the first day of Spring, Wade sends a text to Peter, telling him about the new promo at the movie theater.

 _Petey:_ Is this your way of saying you want to restart our Friday night routine?

 _Petey:_ Because yes.

Wade skips around his apartment in celebration before forwarding the promo information to Peter. They make plans to go out that Friday evening at six to see the latest blockbuster. To Peter, this is just another one of those hang-out sessions that he wishes was a date, but to Wade, it _is_ a date. It’s what he keeps reminding himself whenever a part of his brain tells him to just be honest with Peter.

_Nope, it’s a date. Don’t need to state it outright or ask him if it is one._

He doesn’t want to admit to himself that there’s an even smaller voice in his head paranoid that Peter will reject him after all this time.

When they get to the theater, they realize they made the grave mistake of not ordering their tickets ahead of time; all showings for that particular movie are sold out for the next few days. They decide to watch a coming-of-age indie film instead since it has the closest start time.

Half an hour into the film, Wade attempts the obvious trick of pretending to stretch in order to put your arm around someone. He manages the move but bumps Peter in the process. Looking over, he sees Peter pinching the bridge of his nose as he slowly shakes his head.

Wade leans over and whispers, “What? Too virginal-teenage-nerd for you? Or am I just reminding you of how you probably tried to pull that same move in your younger years?”

“Uh… both?”

Wade’s chuckle is terribly timed with an on-screen death, which causes Peter to laugh out loud.

“We sound like the biggest assholes right now,” Wade struggles to say as he fails to suppress his giggles.

Peter nods as he turns his head and buries his face against Wade, hoping to muffle his own laughter. Wade uses this to his advantage, moving his arm around Peter’s shoulder to a more comfortable position. Once their laughter finally subsides, they’re cozied up and have completely forgotten about Wade’s fake-yawn and stretch shtick.

An hour and a half into the film, Wade feels Peter slowly and gently lay his head on his shoulder.

_See, that is a fucking date move right here. Fucking knew it! Fucking knew it really was a date!_

He lightly rubs Peter’s shoulder as he watches the movie. Something embarrassing happens to the protagonist on the screen, and Wade giggles but quickly realizes that Peter hasn’t reacted. Awkwardly, Wade tries to move away from Peter without removing Peter’s head from his shoulder. When he manages to contort his body just right to look over at Peter’s face, he sees that Peter’s sleeping.

Wade sits back and pouts.

_Is that why he put his head on my shoulder? Because he fell asleep? Dammit, that’s just—Well… it is kinda cute…_

Pressing his lips gently to the top of Peter’s head, Wade lets him sleep for just a little bit longer before intentionally jostling him at the next funny scene, pretending to be laughing with his full body. Peter startles awake, mumbling an apology for sleeping on him.

“What? Movie got boring for you after they killed off—”

“Nah, not that. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Did you go patrolling without me again?”

Wade’s been teasing Peter with salty comments about being left out of patrols. Peter doesn’t want to admit that he’s actually been going on sluggish jogs and working out on rooftops in his most recent endeavor to lose weight. He knows Wade would support him, but he’s afraid that confessing the truth will eventually lead to also admitting that he’s trying to slim down before MJ’s wedding.

“Of course. I don’t want you stealing the spotlight from me again.”

“Psh! Like that’s possible!”

They watch the last of the movie in silence. Once the end credits start to roll, Wade pulls out his phone to see if there are any stingers. In the light from his phone, he can see Peter rolling his neck and rubbing his shoulders, a pained expression on his face.

“You didn’t get hurt on patrol, did you?”

“No. Yes. Sorta? I think I pulled something the other day. It’s why I haven’t been getting sleep.”

Wade twirls his finger in the air, gesturing for Peter to turn around. Peter quirks a brow at him but complies, facing away from Wade. As soon as Wade places his hands on his shoulders and presses his thumbs against the base of his neck, Peter rolls his shoulders back and groans deep in his throat.

“Dang, Petey, you trying to make it sound like—”

“Wade, why do you always have to—” Peter starts to turn back around to scold Wade, but Wade grabs him by the upper arms and moves him back into place.

“Kidding! Sorry! Just let me do this for you.”

Wade moves his hand up, gently massaging his deltoids before working his hands back towards Peter’s neck. Eventually, he rubs his thumbs in circles on the back of Peter’s neck, working them up towards the base of his skull as Peter slowly tilts his head down. Just then, a bonus scene in the middle of the credits starts, the bright clear skies on screen illuminating the room just enough for Wade to see Peter more clearly.

It doesn’t quite make sense to him, but Wade has the urge to lean forward and press his lips to the back of Peter’s neck. After only a few seconds of trying to convince himself not to, Wade gives up and leans his whole body forward. He grips onto Peter’s shoulders with his fingertips just hard enough to work out the tight muscles, but his lips move so gently against Peter’s skin that he can barely feel the contact himself.

Peter bolts upright as he shivers.

“What was that?” Peter looks over his shoulder at Wade just as the credits roll again, sending them back into darkness.

_Holy fucking shit. Are you stupid? Are you really just going to kiss his neck like that?_

Wade squeezes Peter’s deltoids a few times before asking if he feels a little better. Peter nods, thanking him before suggesting they head out and grab some dinner. Peter doesn’t mention the massage or the strange sensation he felt on his neck near the end, and Wade hopes that’s only because Peter hasn’t realized what it really was.

\- - - - - - -

Two weeks later, Wade shows up to Peter’s apartment carrying his Deadpool gear. Peter shouts at him from somewhere across the apartment, letting him know he’s already in the back room. Wade tells him to wait a moment while he gets ready. Once fully suited up, sans weapons, Wade heads to the second bedroom that Peter uses for storage.

“Hey, can you—What are you doing?” Peter stares in disbelief as Wade strides across the room, clearly posing.

“Helping you clear out Aunt May’s stuff.”

“Dressed as Deadpool?”

“What do you mean dressed _as Deadpool_ , like I’m not Deadpool!?”

“You know what I meant!”

Wade holds up his hands, flexing his fingers. “You said to bring gloves.”

“But the rest of it?”

“Needed to get the full effect, Petey Pie. This is a ’fit.”

“Fit?”

“An _outfit_. Gotta do the full ensemble, can’t just do the accessories.” When Peter glares at him, Wade starts peeling out of his suit. “Fine, I’ll look like an idiot as I work, I guess. Wearing just the gloves. So tacky.”

He leaves to change back into his civilian clothes, but keeps the gloves on. When he returns, Peter instructs Wade on where to move certain large items and boxes as he goes through the contents of two giant plastic containers. After Wade moves about a dozen oversized objects, he comes back into the spare bedroom, huffing.

“Why am I doing all the heavy lifting when you’re the one with the superstrength?”

Both men stare at each other, surprised they didn’t realize this sooner. Eventually Peter says, “You volunteered to do the moving while I sorted things, like when we went through MJ’s stuff.”

Wade glances around in shock. “So this is _all_ Aunt May’s stuff?”

“Yes and no.” Peter leans over and holds up a photo album of his wedding. “There’s still a lot of things here that technically belong to MJ, and there’s a lot of Aunt May’s stuff that’s scattered throughout the apartment. You know my closet in the bedroom? That’s all her stuff, like the sentimental items.”

Wade takes off his gloves before taking the album from Peter. He flips through the pages, smiling at how happy Peter looked back then. He only makes it through half the album when Peter asks him to grab an empty plastic bin from the side of the room. Wade sets the photobook down and retrieves the container, placing it beside Peter before turning back to the album.

“Nope, you need to take care of this box.”

“What do you mean?”

“You need to sort through this.”

“But I don’t know what to do with Aunt May’s stuff.”

“You’ll know what to do with this.”

Wade peeks inside the bin Peter’s gesturing at and sees baking supplies.

“I personally don’t need any of this, and you’d spent a lot of time with her in the kitchen, so I figured you might want to take a few things or just—Oof!” Peter is almost knocked over when Wade spins around and hugs him tight.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! This is—Wow! I’m so glad Aunt May _didn’t_ beat your skull in with that rolling pin like she wanted to.”

“What!?” Peter tries to pry Wade off of him.

“I don’t even remember what you did, I just remember her being _so pissed_.”

Unfortunately, Peter can recall a good half-dozen things that could have warranted such a reaction from May. He tries to push the thought aside as they continue to go through his rat-packed items and move boxes out of the room.

They stumble upon Aunt May’s jewelry, Wade getting excited at a few large brooches that Peter swears he’d never even seen her wear. Aunt May’s small record collection is of particular interest to both men, but seeing as neither have a record player, they add it to the donate pile. Peter leaves the room every once in a while to put away important documents, adding them to a giant pile in the living room. Wade also leaves regularly, but to add more baking items to his take home box, occasionally putting an item in Peter’s kitchen for his own convenience whenever he visits.

They continue finding interesting things, taking much longer to clear out the room than expected, when Wade uncovers a box still wrapped in Christmas paper. Peter turns it over in his hands a few times before blurting out, “She hasn’t used this kind of wrapping paper in _years_! I remember this one. She went through a holly phase, and all the wrapping paper for the next couple of years had holly designs. I had to have been a teenager at the time.”

“Are you going to open it?” Wade looks at him eagerly.

Peter responds by tearing off the paper, revealing a flimsy department store shirt box. He pulls off the lid and stares at the item, suddenly feeling short of breath. Almost instantly, he starts to break down and haphazardly pushes the lid back onto the box, only managing to get two of the corners in place before giving up. He tosses the shirt box on top of the nearest to-be-sorted storage box and races out of the room.

Peter hears Wade calling after him, but he can’t bear to face him right now. He runs straight into his bedroom and slams the door shut behind him, locking it. His breathing is more ragged now as the tears start to fall. Stumbling across the room with a hand over his mouth to hold back a sob, Peter aims to lie on his bed, but ends up falling to his knees just inches away from it. He curls in on himself as he begins to weep.

Wade isn’t sure if he should stay in place until Peter comes back or not. He thinks about finishing the box he’s working on, but his curiosity gets the better of him. Without permission, he lifts the corner of the shirt box and sees the collar of a green polo shirt. Furrowing his brow in confusion, Wade picks up the box, and a small envelope falls out. He looks down at it and sees the name ‘Benjamin.’

“Oh, Petey.”

Wade runs out of the room and heads straight to the master bedroom, but he stops outside the door the moment he hears Peter crying inside. He decides to give Peter some time to himself and goes back to that box he is supposed to be sorting. Once Wade manages to put away the last of the crafting supplies from inside the box, he goes to check on Peter, leaning against the door to hear if he’s still upset. It’s not as loud now, but Wade can tell he’s probably still in no condition to talk. He paces the hall before knocking on the bedroom door.

“Petey? I know… I know you’re having a rough time right now, more than I probably can understand, but I just want you to know that whenever you’re ready to come out, I’ll be here. Just… just take your time. Do what you gotta do.” Wade presses his ear against the door and hears Peter gasping for breath and sniffling, sounding as if he’s trying to rush himself to normalcy. “Take your time, Petey. Let it all out, it’s fine.”

Wade leaves to get a water bottle from the fridge, pausing by the door before returning to the back room. He moves a few boxes, just enough to clear a path to get at the closet, but he can’t seem to focus on sorting anything, not with Peter still so upset. He goes back to Peter’s bedroom and leans his back against the wall by the door, listening but not hearing anything. Sliding down until he’s sitting in the hall, Wade decides to wait until Peter steps out of the room and spends his time checking his phone while taking small sips from the water bottle.

It takes about three more minutes until the door finally opens, Wade puts down his drink as he looks up at Peter. He’s about to stand but stops as Peter crumbles down to the ground beside him, struggling to keep from crying again. Wade reaches out for him, and Peter immediately falls into his arms, burying his face in Wade’s chest as they sit sprawled out in the middle of the hall.

Wade slowly rocks Peter as he tries to talk between gasps. He says that it was a gift that Aunt May never got to give Uncle Ben, how they couldn’t even have one more Christmas together.

Peter sounds like he’s trying to laugh as he says, “And it’s such an ugly shirt, too,” but it turns into choking sobs, his whole body shaking except for his hands which grip onto Wade’s shirt.

Holding him tighter now, Wade waits out Peter’s weeping. He knows Peter still struggles coping with Uncle Ben’s death, especially since he blames himself for it. But Wade also knows how much harder it is to deal with when you’re blindsided by such awful reminders as this, realizing you never knew you had already spent your last Christmas with them.

Suddenly, Peter leans back and wipes his face, taking short breaths as he tries to force a premature end to all the crying. Wade reaches up and moves to pull him back in, but Peter resists, turning away and shaking his head.

“Peter, it’s okay. You can—”

“No. I’m all gross and snotty and I don’t want to get that—”

Wade grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him back into his arms, forcing Peter to curl up against him. “I don’t give a damn. You act like I can’t just slip into my suit again or borrow a shirt if you bitch about my outfit.” He thinks he hears a weak chuckle among the sounds of crying. “You’re not going to be good going back in there and dealing with possibly more of his stuff if you don’t handle your emotions now. So go ahead and cry. We’ll worry about laundry later.”

It takes another fifteen minutes for Peter to calm down enough to speak clearly, although it’s quiet and weak when he says, “Thank you for being here.”

Wade squeezes his shoulders briefly before sliding his arms down so he can rub Peter’s back. “Of course… But… Why are you trying to clean out the room anyways?” Wade’s hoping for some kind of answer where he can convince Peter to maybe take it slow, make it more than a one day task.

“I want to buy a house.” Peter pauses to wipe at his face.

“A-a house?”

“Yeah, in about two or so years. Get out of cruddy New York apartment living for good. Settle down in a perma-place. So I’ve been downsizing my belongings and thinking about possibly renting out that room, you know, an extra source of income to save up for getting a new place.”

Wade nods but then suddenly shakes his head when he realizes a potential problem with Peter’s plan. “Are you sure you can get a roommate who would be cool with the whole… you know… Spidey-lifestyle?”

Peter finally chuckles without a sob. “Nope. Not at all. It’s a very loose plan at the moment. Figured I’d clear out of the room now and worry about that later.”

It takes everything in Wade not to volunteer to be that roommate, offering to pay Peter whatever he demands. Instead, Wade decides to focus on the timeline of Peter’s plan. “If you’re not in a rush to find a roommate _right now_ , perhaps you should stop with the room for today and pick it up some other day, maybe several days. Take your time with it.”

Peter shakes his head. “I want to at least get through half of it today. Just enough to pull out the rest of MJs stuff so I can finally get around to sorting that once and for all before she gets married.”

Wade nods and helps Peter to his feet, he leads the way back to the spare bedroom before spinning around, nearly knocking Peter over. “Do you need me to deal with the… the gift?”

“Could you?”

After gesturing for Peter to not move, Wade rushes into the room, putting the shirt into the donation bag. He then spots the envelope on the floor, picking it up and peeking inside to find two movie tickets. The date on them confirms Peter’s theory about which Christmas it was. He puts the tickets back into the envelope when he hears Peter ask, “What’s that?”

“Movie tickets. They were inside the box.”

Peter gives a weak smile. “Must have been Aunt May’s way of telling him to take her out.”

“Want me to—” Wade gestures to the trash bag.

Reaching for the envelope, Peter shakes his head. “Nah. I think I might keep these. It’s actually a cute way to remember how they got along with each other. If they wanted to let the other one know they care or wanted attention, they’d do things like this instead of saying it flat out.”

Peter leaves to put the envelope away, placing it on his dresser until he can find a way to display it later. He thinks about how his Aunt and Uncle were with each other, remembering how annoyed he was at times when they weren’t more direct. It reminds him a bit too much of his own recent behavior towards Wade.

_Clearly took after the both of them. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good habit I should stick with._

When Peter returns to the spare bedroom, Wade is stacking boxes off to the side. He opens the top box and pokes around inside, his back to Peter. It’s all the invitation Peter needs to make his way across the room and wrap his arms around Wade’s middle, standing up on his toes to rest his chin on his shoulder. Wade slowly reaches down and places his hand on top of one of Peter’s.

“Thanks for being here for me.”

Wade shivers with the way Peter’s breath ghosts along his neck. “Sure thing.”

He turns to embrace Peter before telling him to go wash his face while he orders them dinner. Once Peter is in the bathroom, Wade goes through the stack of delivery menus Peter keeps on the end table. He makes the call, hanging up just in time for Peter to step into the living room.

“You feeling a bit more normal?”

Peter nods. “Think you can help me with something huge?”

“Depends on the task and if the pay is good.”

“We have quite the pile for donations already. I want to go ahead and drop it off now so we don’t have to keep working around it.”

Wade hisses. “Nah. I mean, food should be here in about a half hour, and I don’t think you can pay me enough to walk three blocks to the donation site with _all_ that stuff.”

“I’ll let you be the little spoon tonight.”

Incoherent mumblings escape Wade as his brain short-circuits.

“I mean, I can take it myself, but it’ll be more trips that way. Or we can just work around it by—”

“Which ones did you want to take now?” He doesn’t wait for a response as he marches straight to the spare bedroom, ready to pick up every box in the room if need be.

They grab several of the bigger bags and boxes and head out to the donation site.

As they quietly trek the three blocks, Wade mulls over Peter’s offer.

_He said I can be the little spoon, as in spooning, as in sharing the bed and cuddling… Is this really happening? I didn’t think to ask about crashing here and now I get to be the LITTLE FUCKING SPOON._

Wade nearly drops the box he’s carrying as he looks over at Peter, grinning at the thought of being held by him later that night.

When they reach the donation site, they push their items up over the edge of the giant collection bins. Wade spins around with the last bag, trying to get the momentum before he launches the bag at the top of the bin. When he finally lets go, he yells, “KOBE!” prompting Peter to roll his eyes and walk away.

Wade rushes to catch up, immediately asking Peter if they should do a second run, get the rest of the donation items out of the way. It’s Peter who reminds him that dinner will be delivered soon, and Wade asks if he should just run ahead and grab the stuff alone while Peter waits on the food.

“Why are you suddenly so gung-ho about donations?”

“ _Little spoon_ , Petey.”

“Oh? Didn’t realize the bribe worked. Will have to keep that in mind. But for now, let’s worry about a possible second donation run after dinner.”

After they arrive home and devour their meal, they make one more donation run with Wade chanting ‘little spoon’ in his head the whole time. They return to Peter’s apartment and try to get through a few more boxes so Peter can meet his goal of clearing out half the room. However, they don’t manage very much before Peter admits defeat, now too tired to even look at the boxes.

He glances around the room before complaining, “I don’t think we even managed a third, nonetheless—”

“Eh, more like two-fifths.”

Peter stares unamused at Wade. “Like that’s much better. I really wanted to clear out half the room. But I spent too much time…”

Wade knows exactly what Peter is thinking, blaming his breakdown over Uncle Ben’s Christmas polo for his goal not being achieved. Quick to get Peter’s mind off of it, Wade says, “It doesn’t matter if you didn’t get half done today. We can work on it tomorrow or some other day. It’s not like you have an actual deadline or anything.”

“True,” Peter replies, yawning immediately after.

Wade tells him to go get cleaned up while he rearranges all the scattered boxes in the room. It only takes a few seconds for Wade to begin building a box fort. The reason he stops is because Peter peeks his head in, a towel around his neck and his hair wet and flat against his face.

“Shower’s free,” he remarks off-hand.

After sheepishly putting a box on the giant wall he’s built, Wade rushes past Peter to the bathroom. He makes quick work cleaning himself in the shower so he can spend more time being little spoon with Peter. However, when he enters Peter’s bedroom, he finds him already in bed and fast asleep. To add insult to injury, he’s even curled up in the perfect position to be the little spoon himself.

“I did all that work for you with the promise of being held tonight, and here you are curled up _away_ from me and already snoring. Such a fucking liar. I’m going to report you to HR.”

Wade thinks about waking Peter and demanding proper compensation for his work, but decides against it before he slips under the covers.

_Poor dude is most likely drained from all the physical labor and that whole polo incident._

He sits up on one elbow, leaning over Peter to get a better look at his face that’s illuminated by the lamp. Wade watches him sleep for a few moments before carefully reaching over and turning the light off. As he slowly moves back into his original position, he squints down at Peter, waiting for his eyes to adjust. There’s just enough street light coming in from the broken blinds for him to make out the outline of Peter’s face.

Wade’s body is set in motion before he can fully process the urge he’s feeling. The next thing he knows, he’s pressing his lips to Peter’s cheek, lingering there for a long moment. He pulls back cautiously a minute later, suddenly afraid that he might have woken Peter up. Staring at the side of Peter’s face, looking for a sign that he’s awake, Wade convinces himself that Peter’s still asleep and that he has nothing to worry about.

Slowly shifting onto his back, Wade tries to clear his mind so he can drift off to sleep. It’s not long after when Peter stirs. He rolls over until he’s facing Wade and swings one arm over Wade’s chest.

As soon as Wade feels the arm make contact, his eyes shoot open. His immediate worry is that Peter might have been awake earlier when he slapped a kiss on Peter’s cheek. He spends half the night wondering if it’s possible for his heart to literally beat out of his chest.

\- - - - - - -

Two days later, Peter is poking around the back room, when he notices Wade’s gloves stuck between two boxes. It reminds Peter of how Wade had shown up in his full suit. His mind then drifts to other recent events, such as Wade consoling him and waking up in the middle of the night to find himself curled up against Wade. He thinks about how close they’ve gotten over the years, but especially this past year. He reflects on the way they behave, realizing—

_We basically act like a couple. I’m sure if anyone were to see us, that’s what they’d assume._

_I need to tell him. I need to let him know that I want this to be something real, something official. I want him to know that I do want to see if we can work towards marriage, but because we care about each other, not because he’s afraid I’d be lonely if I were to be still single at forty._

Peter pulls out his phone, intent on texting Wade to come over and get his gloves, but he stops when a ridiculous idea crosses his mind. His first reaction is to call it a Wade-level idea, but that only makes him more intrigued.

_I mean, thinking like him when it comes to matters of dealing with him have worked out in the past, so why not now? And besides, Wade said that if it were to happen to him, he doesn’t care how, he just wants a ring, a sign that it’s really happening. I could totally—_

Still holding onto the gloves, Peter grabs his wallet and keys and heads out to the nearest jewelers. He ends up having to go to three different shops until he manages to find one that can make a simple band, using the glove as a reference for the size. The jeweler tries to upsell him and set stones in the band or get an engraving, but Peter politely refuses. He doesn’t want to spend more on the ring in case this grand scheme blows up in his face. The owner takes as many measurements from the glove as he can before handing it back to Peter, telling him it will be about a month before the ring is ready.

Peter heads out of the store, feeling both thrilled and anxious. After hailing a taxi and telling the driver the address, he feels his phone vibrate.

 _Wade:_ Did I leave my gloves at your place?

Peter gets into the car while replying that he’ll take a look around, hoping he can buy himself enough time to get home before Wade decides to come over and look for those gloves himself.

\- - - - - - -

One morning the next month, Wade barges into Peter’s apartment, shouting “I’M BORED!”

Peter doesn’t look up from his laptop as he mumbles out a standard greeting. After a beat, Peter checks the time, realizing Wade is here four hours earlier than he said he would be. Before he can ask why, Wade jogs over and sits on the couch right next to Peter. He puts his arms around Peter and getting in the way of his typing and asks, “Whatcha doin’?”

“Coming up with a speech.”

Wade squints at the screen, eyes skimming past overused platitudes until he sees the name ‘Mary Jane.’ He tightens his arms around Peter, cuddling him close while Peter’s hands pause over the keyboard. “Are you giving a speech at her wedding or something?”

It takes a moment for Peter to register the question since one of Wade’s arms is pressed firmly across his stomach. The placement makes him self-conscious. “Yes, just in case.”

“Just in case of what?”

Peter saves the document before closing his laptop. “Just in case the best man and the next groomsman in line don’t manage to get out of their business trip.”

“Oh, shoot, double booked?”

Peter nods as he tries to put the laptop on the coffee table, Wade giving zero effort to help make anything easier. “And the other groomsman still free is _apparently_ just a cousin that hardly knows the couple.”

Wade shakes his head. “So their next best bet is the ex-husband?”

“I suppose. I know they also asked someone else, and, honestly, I’d rather they do it. I’m happy for her and everything, but there’s so many people there that know the both of us, and it’s going to be awkward standing on stage and saying that I’m happy for—”

“And they probably won’t believe you.”

“Right.”

Wade nuzzles against Peter as he swings one leg over his knee. “I mean, you are happy, right? Not just for her, but with where you are in your life?”

A grin spreads across Peter’s face, and he thinks about how much he’s laughed recently, how less often he’s felt alone, and how there are now days where he’s looking forward to future plans. “Yes, I am, but it could be better.”

“How so?” Wade pulls back enough to give Peter a concerned look.

“I could be free to move my limbs.” When Wade doesn’t move, Peter adds, “And we could be on our way to brunch.”

“Since when do you do brunch?”

“Since I found out the café a few blocks down is doing unlimited French toast.”

Wade stands and rushes to the door. “Oh, we’re gonna put them out of business!”

As they work through their first serving of French toast and mimosas in the outdoor seating area, Wade and Peter joke about the wedding speech. Wade tries to convince him to add terrible puns and quick jabs. This escalates into a story about Weasel banning puns from Sister Margaret’s for nearly two weeks, only to rescind the rule because he gave up trying to make Wade stop. As Peter’s still laughing, Wade tries to take advantage of the situation and steal a strawberry off of Peter’s plate, but Peter notices. He grabs Wade’s hand and pins it to the table. Eventually, Wade admits defeat, but Peter keeps his hand in place, though his grip lessens until his hand is simply gently resting on top of Wade’s. Despite this, Wade doesn’t move, at least not until Peter lifts his hand to wave down the waitress and let her know they’re ready for the next round.

Wade tries to make more contact with Peter throughout the meal, but with the width of the table, he can’t seem to find a good excuse to reach across it. However, both men are still able to enjoy their brunch together, perhaps a bit too much when Peter nearly stumbles trying to stand.

“Can’t hold your mimosas?”

“My foot just hit the—”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say. Here.” Wade rushes around to Peter’s side of the table. He wraps an arm around his waist while Peter tucks a few bills under a plate for the tip. He barely has time to put his wallet back in his pocket before Wade steers him towards the exit.

“Wade, seriously. I’m barely even tipsy. I just kicked the corner of the—”

“Yeah, I know how it is. You don’t know how many you really had until you stand, and it hits you all at once.”

Wade keeps his arm around Peter’s waist for an entire block until Peter gently grabs the offensive hand and removes it. Trying not to appear upset or disappointed by the action, Wade lets his arm fall to the side.

“Sorry, it’s just too warm for that,” Peter mumbles. He glances over at Wade, his eyes darting down towards Wade’s hand. With one last deep breath, he grabs it in his own.

Wade peeks over at him before sliding his fingers between Peter’s. He watches as Peter peeks down at their hands, smirking briefly, before fixing his eyes back on the path home. Both men can’t help their schoolgirl feelings and remain silent during the walk.

As soon as they get back to the apartment, Wade receives a call from Weasel and has to leave for an emergency. The second the door shuts, Peter plops down on the couch face first and groans into the cushion.

“Why am I like this!? I’m almost forty, not fourteen!”

Peter slams his head into the seat of the sofa a few times.

 _I can’t believe I got that worked up over_ hand holding, _of all things. We’ve cuddled on the couch, we’ve shared the same bed, and Wade’s never been the best with personal space. So why did I shut down all because of his hand!? How did I even get home!? I don’t remember walking here!_

He shifts until he’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“How am I going to bring up that marriage pact and my feelings for him if I can’t even handle interlocked fingers? What has gotten into me!?”

\- - - - - - -

Three days later, Wade and Peter go out on a patrol. It seems like a pretty uneventful night until they catch a few crooks holed up in an auto repair shop making some kind of plan. Thanks to Deadpool securing all the exits and Spider-Man webbing all the criminals together, they were able to efficiently incapacitate and hand over five wanted criminals. Peter sticks around to talk to the police, telling them everything he has overheard while Deadpool slips out the back.

Wade watches from a nearby rooftop for signs of Spider-Man exiting the shop. After watching the crooks being taken away, he finally sees Spidey leave the building with the police. A warm feeling spreads in Wade’s chest, and the reason why makes him feel foolish.

_I just saw him a few moments ago. For fuck’s sake, I’m over here acting like a teenager seeing their crush after not having the same third period class together._

He continues to watch Spider-Man talking to the police with exaggerated hand gestures. It makes him think about how he likes it when Peter gets excited while telling a story, how after all these years he still finds pride in his hero work, and how he helped Wade turn over a new leaf when it comes to killing and the types of missions he takes at Sister Margaret’s. When he sees Spider-Man making the double finger gun gesture to the policeman who shakes his head in response, Deadpool laughs. He’s still too busy chuckling to give away his position when he sees Spider-Man swing away, looking for him.

_He’s a fucking dork, a nerd, but I need him in my life. He needs to know that._

Wade flags down Spidey, determined to make some sort of move to reveal his intentions, though he is uncertain as to what exactly that would entail. Spider-Man spots Wade and swings towards him, eager to tell him the good news. As soon as he lands on the roof, stumbling a few steps towards Deadpool, he tears off his mask.

“Guess what just happened! Guess what we did!”

Deadpool takes off his masks as he takes a few quick strides towards Peter. When he doesn’t say anything, Peter continues, too excited to wait through the guessing game he’s initiated.

“You know that gang leader we kept hearing about on the police scanners? WE CAUGHT HIM! THAT WAS HIM! CAN YOU BELIEVE OUR LUCK!? WE JUST—”

Peter, assuming Wade was coming in for a celebratory hug, is taken off guard when Wade dips him back and kisses him tenderly on the mouth. Feeling unbalanced, Spidey swings his arms wildly until Wade pulls Peter upright. 

When Deadpool is greeted by a glare from Peter, regret hits Wade like a tidal wave.

_Fucking idiot, you did it again! You set your plans back all over again and in the same fucking way! Peter’s gonna get all pissy at you and then—_

“You never change, do you?”

Wade notes Peter’s calm tone. “You’re not mad?”

Peter shakes his head. “It was excessive, yes, but hey, we’ve been in the dark as much as the police when it came to that guy, and we caught him purely on accident. I’m excited too! You’re just… much more excited than me.” Peter ends his statement with a laugh.

A worry deep inside him prevents Wade from correcting Peter’s assumption. “You know me!” Wade manages what he hopes is a believable laugh before suggesting they find a food truck.

\- - - - - - -

The following weekend, the two men are finishing up a patrol when Wade asks Peter if he’d like to come over to watch TV. As Wade argues that they’re close to his place anyways, Peter says, “Sure, but let me go home to shower. I feel like grossness incarnate inside this Spidey-suit.”

Before Wade can tell him to just use his shower, Spider-Man swings away. Wade slowly makes his way home alone, but as soon as he opens his apartment door, he’s grateful that Peter didn’t follow him. They’re both slobs, but Wade’s worse about it, enough to even make a fellow trash goblin like Peter complain at times, and this moment is definitely one of those times.

Wade slams his door shut and rushes into the kitchen. He goes to put dirty plates in the dishwasher, but opens it to find that he left the dishes from last time in there. Scrambling to put them away before loading the next set, Wade struggles to decipher the settings before pressing random buttons and hoping for the best. He then picks up all his to-go food boxes and trashes them, stepping into the trash bag with his boot to make room for more. As he goes to take a shower himself, he picks up his dirty laundry on the way and tosses it in the hamper, noting how the closet looks empty for some reason. He learns why after he gets out of the shower and sees the pile of clean laundry from five days ago resting on the couch and waiting to be folded.

As he’s running with an armful to throw onto his bed, he hears a knock on the door. Wade sprints, a sock falling on the floor behind him, as he shouts, “BE RIGHT THERE!” He rushes back to the couch for the last load and ends up dropping even more this time. Wade resorts to picking up all the stray pieces on his way to answer the door.

As soon as Peter steps inside, he pointedly eyes the clothing balled up in Wade’s fist.

“Oh, I was just doing laundry while I waited for you.”

Peter doesn’t point out the very blatant lie and instead asks what they’re watching tonight. Wade asks if Peter has a preference before tossing the laundry onto his bed.

“Whatever you want.”

They settle on a nature documentary, not really paying much attention since they’re busy discussing the few gang lackeys they still need to corner. Peter is eager to find them, believing it’ll be easier since they already caught the big boss a week ago. Wade, however, has no opinion. His mind is too focused on the kiss they shared, the one he actually meant but Peter hasn’t seemed to realize yet.

_It’s like the boy who cried wolf, but the wolf is rampant acts of spontaneous affection, which is actually much scarier than a real wolf if you ask me._

After they make a game plan for catching the remaining crooks, they go back to their documentary, catching only the last ten minutes. As the credits roll, Wade looks over to ask Peter what he wants to watch next, but Peter is fast asleep. His head is lulled uncomfortably on his own left shoulder. Reaching over, Wade takes care to raise Peter’s head into a more natural position, accidentally waking him in the process.

“Want to crash here?” Wade asks with his hand still on Peter’s cheek.

Peter looks up at him as he places a hand over Wade’s. “Can I?”

_Fucking adorable bastard making this harder on me and not even knowing it._

Wade helps Peter up, but in doing so, he spots a stray sock wedged between the cushions of the couch. As soon as Peter stands, Wade rushes to his bedroom, trying to quickly clear his bed of laundry. He struggles to gather everything up in his arms, having hoped to make this move a single trip, but that only causes him to waste time fighting to fit it all in his arms. By the time he stands upright and turns back towards his closet, Peter’s already in his room.

“You sure you were doing laundry when I got here?”

“Yes! What do you think this is?”

“Unfolded laundry from last week.”

Wade throws the clothes to the bottom of his closet and slams the door shut. “It’s only been a couple of days, not seven, thank you very much!”

“What do you do? Sleep next to them at night?”

“No, I sleep next to them when I take naps on the couch.”

Peter teases him as he crawls into bed, falling asleep shortly after, while Wade sits next to him with the covers down to his waist. Watching Peter sleep, Wade thinks about how he began crushing on Peter the day he first unmasked himself. Wade recalls how he shoved his feelings aside when he found out that Spider-Man was planning to propose to his then girlfriend. He remembers how he felt like an idiot with rose-colored glasses because he stuck by Peter’s side through it all. Eventually, he was able to get over his crush, learning to just appreciate Peter as a friend, his best friend. But those feelings resurged when he comforted Peter during the divorce, and they’ve only grown more as time has passed. It’s really a wonder how he ever managed to get over Spidey the first time.

Wade leans back until he’s propped up on an elbow, his body tilted towards Peter. He knows he shouldn’t do what he’s about to, that it’s way too risky, but since he’s already done it twice this month and gotten away with it, he fears no repercussions. Only hesitating once, Wade closes the distance between them until he can press his lips against Peter’s. The touch is just light enough to not wake him, hopefully. Wade pulls back, his heart pounding in his ears as he reflects on all their shared kisses over the past year, including the near-misses and the one-sided ones too. Slowly, he shifts until he’s lying on his back, hands over his chest where his heart aches for one real kiss, one that’s intentional by both parties and based on the mutual reciprocation of feelings. Wade glances over at Peter’s sleeping form one last time.

_I wonder if he could ever love me the way I love him._

\- - - - - - -

The next Wednesday, Peter is sorting the more personal boxes in the back bedroom when he hears his phone ring from the living room. It stops ringing by the time he finds it tucked under one of Aunt May’s decorative pillows that he threw onto the sofa. He drops it when he doesn’t recognize the number, but picks it back up when his voicemail pings.

Peter only listens to the first half of it before grabbing his wallet and keys, rushing out the door. Within a half-hour, Peter’s in a taxi on his way back home with the ring he picked up from the jeweler’s. He feels a strange mix of excitement and anxiety, his body experiencing waves of nausea between his bouts of joy. When he gets home, he has to stop himself from texting Wade and just asking him to come over now.

_What am I going to do? “Hey, I got a present for you?” That’s so stupid. No, it has to be meaningful. Wait! What if we go back to the diner, and I recreate—No. That’s lame. That place is disgusting. Maybe I can just ask on patrol one night, but what am I going to do about carrying it? Have a weird box-shaped lump under my Spidey-suit!? I can carry it without the box, but then I’ll probably end up losing it._

Peter looks at the ring one last time before closing the box.

_I could just keep it simple and ask him while on a date one night. But… we’d have to go on a real date finally. And I—_

The feeling of nausea gets to Peter again, forcing away any thoughts of asking Wade out. He goes to the back room with the ring and places it in a crate of photos, tucking it into the closet to deal with once he has an actual plan.

_It might be best to go on a couple dates first before I try to bring up the marriage pact. Proper dates. Not these date-like outings we never officially recognize as a date. I wonder if he’d say yes though. I mean, if he really wanted to take me out, he would have by now, right? So why—_

Peter’s phone chimes. He immediately reaches for it, recognizing Wade’s text tone.

 _Wade:_ We’ve been slacking!!!!!

 _Wade:_ Let’s start Friday night movies again since it’s almost summer!!

 _Wade_ : You free this weekend to see that one remake??

_This is it! This is my chance!_

Peter types up a long explanation that he’d like to go to the movies that Friday, but as a couple, but then he deletes the word ‘couple,’ feeling that it might be too much. He tries to reconstruct the sentence but ends up deleting it all again. He then attempts to ask Wade if these movie nights are supposed to be dates but deletes that too when he realizes that Wade could say, ‘no’ just as easily. As he begins retyping his original sentence, another message pops up.

 _Wade:_ You sure are typing a lot for a yes or no question

Peter groans and hangs his head.

_He just watched me type and delete things for a whole two minutes probably. I can’t ask him now! I just can’t._

Peter thinks for a while before replying, saying that he was going to suggest dinner after but couldn’t think of a place.

 _Wade:_ The Greek place just had their reopening

 _Wade:_ You like their tzatziki

_They do have the best tzatziki in town… Okay, enough about sauces, I’m going to do it._

Peter once again taps out a few more failed replies, trying to make this an official date while still trying to sound casual about it. When he types his third attempted message, he moves to delete it, but it suddenly disappears. The sent message tone goes off. Peter stares at his screen in real horror.

 _“Sounds like a date!”_ _Really? REALLY!? Not, ‘It’s a date,’ like some normal person with sense but ‘sounds like a date’ like someone making an observation but—_

The incoming text sound goes off as another message appears. Peter groans on instinct, hating when Wade uses emojis because he usually doesn’t know what they mean.

 _But this one’s a... winking smiley? Is that a wink? I guess he’s cool with it_ sounding _like a date._

Peter squints at the emoji for a few more seconds trying to decide if there’s some secret second meaning he doesn’t know about, like all the eggplant emojis Wade used to send.

That Friday afternoon is filled with rain and rolling thunder, the perfect weather to burrow into blankets and nap. Peter slips back into his pajamas before plopping into bed, struggling to free the blanket out from under himself. It doesn’t take long before he starts drifting in and out of sleep. During one of his barely-awake moments, Peter thinks he hears the front door. It’s confirmed within seconds when he hears Wade’s voice.

“Petey?”

Peter doesn’t respond, too close to falling back asleep.

“Petey Pie? You home?”

The voice is closer now, and Peter tries answering it, but only an incoherent mumble comes out.

“There you are!” Wade’s voice drops to a hard whisper. “Shit, sorry, you asleep?”

“Yes.”

“Liar. Hey, are those new?”

Peter lifts and turns his head to see what Wade is talking about. Wade points to Peter’s leg that’s sticking out from the mess of blankets. “No, I’ve had these legs all my life.” Peter smirks and lays his head back down on the pillow, ready to fall back asleep as the storm outside continues.

“Gotdammit! I need to stop hanging around you. You’re beginning to sound like me.” Peter can hear rustling fabric as Wade speaks. “But why those? Was there a sale on all things tartan?”

“Noooh.” Peter tries again, this time without yawning. “No. My other ones are all a bit too stretched out now since I’m finally losing my gut.” Peter feels the bed dip next to him.

“You don’t seem to be happy about that.”

“I miss food and now I gotta buy new clothes.”

Wade laughs as he works on getting comfortable in bed, prompting Peter to turn and open one eye. It’s his attempt to glare while being sleepy. Wade continues to squirm, still trying to burrow under the blankets that are bundled around Peter. Once comfortable, he looks over and sees Peter making a funny face.

“What? You going to kick me out like usual?”

“What do you mean ‘like usual?’”

“That one time where you were all like THAT’S MY SIDE and shit!?”

Peter rolls his eyes and scoots closer. He leans up and gently presses a quick kiss to Wade’s forehead before laying back down. “Nah, you’re on the right side of the bed, so you can stay.”

Wade considers kissing Peter in retaliation, but he came here for another reason and doesn’t want to mess things up for his new plan to woo Peter.

_Besides, he always told me I had impulse control issues. This is me, controlling my impulse, thus it shouldn’t be an issue if I just—_

Wade grabs one of Peter’s hands and holds it. He sees Peter peek an eye open at him but otherwise doesn’t respond. Unlike last time, the handholding doesn’t seem to affect Peter. He’s not sure if it was just the setting, if he was more tipsy than previously thought, or some other unknown reason, but it doesn’t make Peter’s heart pound as much this time. Then he realizes that it’s because Wade isn’t exactly holding his hand anymore, he’s playing with it. It feels as though he’s gripping each finger, and Peter confirms this when he opens his eyes, spotting Wade wrapping his thumb and forefinger around each of his fingers in succession.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping myself entertained since you apparently think it’s okay to nap when there’s a guest.”

“Are you really a guest at this point?” Peter asks as Wade holds their hands together, palm to palm, as if comparing sizes.

The question makes Wade think of Peter’s spare room and his plans to rent it out. He wants to ask about it, but he’s a little distracted at the moment.

When Wade doesn’t respond and continues to play with Peter’s hand, Peter decides to just go back to sleep and leave Wade to his own devices. As he closes his eyes, he mumbles a quiet, “Weirdo” in response to Wade messing with Peter’s fingers again.

There’s a short pause until Peter feels something different, like satin, trailing across the back of his hand. Opening his eyes, Peter sees Wade tying a blue ribbon around one of his fingers. Peter tries to pull his hand away but Wade holds it firmly in place as he puts a bow on the ribbon.

“What _are_ you doing!? Where did you even get that?”

Peter tries to take his hand back, but Wade fights against it. There’s a few seconds of a scuffle before Peter’s hand is free from Wade and of the ribbon. He rolls over onto his side, away from Wade. “You really are a weirdo.”

“Speaking of weirdos, have you found one to rent out that back room yet?”

“Why? You wanna take that room?”

Wade doesn’t hesitate. “Why not? I have to move out at the end of June anyways. And you know me, moving every one to two years, so it’ll be perfect for your two-year house plan and you don’t have to worry about your secret identity.” Wade feels his heart drop when Peter rolls back towards him with a scowl.

_Fuck. He wasn’t serious. He was just saying that to—_

“So you gotta move in after MJ’s wedding?”

“Her wedding? Uh, yeah. I suppose.”

Peter’s face relaxes as he nods. “Cool. We can start moving your stuff over the day after that, if you like. But for now, just give me five more minutes.”

Wade lies there in shock that all of his rehearsed ‘let me move in’ speeches were not needed. 

_I was fully prepared to fight my case but apparently all Petey needed was to know that moving would fit into his schedule. Did he just assume I was going to move in after all or did he luck out when I asked about the room again?_

Wade struggles to recall their previous conversations about the room, to see if he’s missed any signs, but gives up when he hears a light snore coming from Peter. He quickly pecks him on the cheek before lying close, nuzzling up against Peter’s side as he drifts off too.

Wade doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep, but he does know that he’s disappointed to find the bed empty next to him. He looks around, trying to decide if he should be worried or pouty over the situation, but is interrupted when he smells something delicious. Wade pads towards the kitchen, nose high in the air as he sniffs every few seconds. When his foot hits the linoleum, he looks down to see Peter sliding a pancake onto a plate with a pre-existing stack.

Peter looks at him for a second before pouring the last of the batter into a pan. “About time you got up. I thought I was going to have to eat these all myself.”

Wade sends a quick wish to the heavens that all his rainy afternoons can be like this before grabbing some cutlery and the maple syrup.

They opt to eat standing in the kitchen, to avoid spilling syrup in the living room, which prompts Wade to ask Peter why he doesn’t have a dining table.

“MJ got it in the divorce.”

“Petey, that was _years_ ago. Why haven’t you bought a new—”

“You act like you don’t know me. And why do I need an entire dining table for myself? Who else comes here to eat besides you?”

“Well, if I’m going to be living here now, I’m going to bring my dining table.”

Peter pauses with a bite of pancake halfway to his mouth. He gives Wade a confused look then frowns when his pancake piece falls to the plate.

_Shit, does he really not remember our conversation? Was he that sleepy?_

“I don’t remember ever seeing a dining table at your place.”

“Oh. It’s in that room you don’t go into. I use it to store my weapons.”

“I see. So how many bullet holes are in it?”

“None! But… there are a few nicks from my katanas.”

As they finish their brinner, they plan out what other pieces of furniture Wade should bring, such as his couch since it’s newer and his TV stand which is large enough to hold all of their media goodies.

The conversation continues as they migrate to the living room, planning out the move like it’s one of their missions. They plot as many details as possible, picking out days to clear out the back room and coming up with different ways to get Wade’s furniture across town. The conversation soon turns into plans of things to do once Wade is moved in. When Wade brings up finishing the Brat Pack movies with Peter, he suddenly remembers the main reason he came over in the first place. Wade checks his watch before bolting up from the couch.

“Shit! The movie! We have to go now!”

The two men scramble to leave. As soon as they hit the entrance to Peter’s apartment, Peter opens the umbrella for them. Wade keeps an arm around him as they walk toward the theatre, huddled together under a tiny navy umbrella. When they get to the theatre, Wade heads straight for the box office, pulling out his wallet as he goes. Peter does a poor job of shaking out the umbrella because he has to rush to stop Wade, pulling out two tickets he bought the day before.

Peter beams at Wade as he hands the tickets over to the lady in the booth for her to rip in half. “It’s about time I treat you to a movie.”

His excitement is infectious, causing Wade to blush and grin as well. Wade allows himself to be led into theater five and all the way back to the third to last row. As Peter finds their seats, he says, “Sorry I couldn’t get our usual seats. Seems they were already sold out.”

Wade tells him it’s no big deal, biting back the truth he’s keeping from Peter. Halfway through previews, Wade excuses him to the bathroom, but instead heads to the box office. Pulling two tickets out of his wallet, he hands them to the teen girl at the register, asking for a refund. The employee looks at him confused, pointing in the direction of theatre five.

“But you—Didn’t I just tear these?”

“No, I had already bought these earlier, but then—”

“Oh my gosh! Did your husband buy tickets for you guys too?”

“He’s not my husband, yet.”

There’s a pause as both of them mouth the last word. As Wade mulls over why he added that extra word, the teen squeals. “Yet? YET!?”

She issues the refund, taking longer than she might have if she wasn’t so busy asking Wade a million questions about their wedding plans and gushing over how much she loves love. By the time Wade gets his money back, he assumes the movie might have started already, but he’s still feeling elated at the thoughts of not being married… _yet_. He takes his cash and buys Icees and popcorn for them, practically skipping up the steps as he returns to his seat.

Peter takes one icee from him, whispering, “I really don’t think you need to have any more sugar. Give me that other one.”

Wade shakes his head before taking a long sip. “Not _yet._ ”

Peter tilts his head in confusion before shaking it off and turning to the screen as the film begins.

Although the movie outing is followed by a cheap Greek dinner, all seems like a typical Friday for them. Both men consider it their first date, even if they refuse to say that out loud.

\- - - - - - -

Towards the end of the month, Wade stops by late one evening to check on Peter since he hasn’t been answering his texts for the past several hours. He opens the door to find the lights all off. He creeps towards the bedroom to see if Peter had gone to bed early but spots a dark object on the couch. As he tiptoes towards the sofa, he realizes it’s Peter, fast asleep. Wade gives up being quiet and stomps over to him, loudly demanding, “GET UP BEFORE YOU FUCK UP YOUR BACK AGAIN, OLD MAN!”

Peter bolts up and glares at Wade. “That was _one_ time, and I _broke_ my back while playing Spidey, not by taking a _nap_ on the _couch_.”

“Close enough. What are you doing here anyways?” Wade hits the lights and gets his answer immediately. Peter raises a hand to block his eyes from the light, allowing Wade to see how his knuckles are bruised and bloodied. When Peter finally lowers his hands, Wade sees more damage on Peter’s face, including what looks to be the early traces of a terrible black eye.

“Solo patrol again?” Wade hears the bite in his comment but feels no remorse over it.

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

Wade heads straight for the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. “No. I know you, Peter. I know exactly why you’re doing this. You don’t think I’ve noticed that the whole slimming down and the solo patrols are happening at the same time?”

Peter doesn’t have the guts to tell him that those two things aren’t exactly related.

“I’m glad you’re trying to take care of yourself, but this is going too far.” Wade returns with the kit and sits on the edge of the coffee table right in front of Peter. “You don’t need to try to get your 20-year-old Spidey-body back. You just need to be healthy, and that’s what you are when you’re not getting your ass handed to you and showing up back here all fucked up.”

“Says the guy who’s actually toned and acts reckle—Sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

Wade pauses with an alcohol pad just inches away from Peter. He glares at Peter, angry that he brought up two of their usual fights, before deciding to let the second one go.

“You know why I work out.”

Peter tries to roll his eyes but flinches as the alcohol makes contact with an open wound. “I can understand being fit for your job, but _I know you_ as well. I know your other reasons. You don’t need something to distract from or make up for your face. That’s completely idiotic!”

“Well, it makes me feel better, makes me feel like it’s okay to be around others.”

Peter was expecting a screaming match, so he’s not prepared for how soft spoken Wade is now. Peter thinks about his comment and his own reasons for trying hard to get in shape these days. He puts his hand on Wade’s knee, drawing his attention away from his wounds. “I understand, I do. One of the reasons I’m doing this is so I don’t feel bad standing next to you.”

“TO ME!?” Wade gestures wildly to his face. “How can you—”

“I got back a few photos from that wedding we went to together, and it was—I didn’t like it, how I looked, and I just felt that… I know it’s stupid, don’t look at me like that, but I honestly thought that you wouldn’t—”

Wade intentionally places a fresh alcohol pad onto Peter’s worst knuckle, making him hiss in pain. “Stop that nonsense. I’d fucking go to every wedding with you no matter what. All I ask is that you dance with me at least a few times at the reception.”

“Of course.”

Wade smiles softly at him before standing up to get an ice pack for Peter’s eye. When he returns, he asks, “What’s the other reason?”

“What other reason?”

“You said it was one of the reasons you’re working out so much. What’re the other ones?

“Ah… right… I mean, this right here.” Peter gestures to his body, unable to tell Wade the full reason. He worries that his lack of fitness is slowing him down and making him sloppy.

_And how can I be there for Wade if something happens to me and I’m no longer here all because I couldn’t move fast enough._

As Peter holds the ice pack to his eyes, Wade finishes bandaging the other wounds as best he can, asking Peter about the fight. Turns out, it was five fights in one night, which is why he turned in early and crashed on the couch, too exhausted to clean up and take himself to bed. He still feels the exhaustion as Wade tends to him, zoning out as he stares at Wade’s hand treating any wounds he can find.

Once Peter gets the all clear from Wade, he stands and packs up the first aid kit. Wade stops him, telling him to head back to bed.

“You need rest.”

Peter nods before leaning over, intent on helping at least a little.

“I said go!” Wade pulls him upright. “And don’t worry. I’ll take care of this.” Wade snatches up the container with both hands for emphasis.

“Fine,” Peter says, turning towards the hall. He takes only one step before turning back around, intent on thanking Wade for looking out for him and for being willing to go to weddings with him.

“Sweet dreams!!” Wade coos before turning and blowing a kiss in Peter’s direction. But it’s not an air kiss, not since Peter leans in to kiss Wade on the cheek at the same time. They make real contact, halfway on each other’s lips. Both men quickly pull back and stare at each other wide-eyed until Peter shrugs and heads for the hall.

Without thinking, Wade blurts out, “You’re awfully blasé about that!”

Peter doesn’t bother to look back at Wade as he responds. “Why shouldn’t I be? You’ve kissed me twice while I was sleeping earlier this week.”

As Peter shuts his bedroom door, Wade drops the first aid kit container on the coffee table. Most of the contents fall out. He kneels in place and waits for the earth to swallow him whole. When he realizes there’s no saving him from this embarrassment, Wade groans aloud and repacks the first aid kit. He figures that since he’s been caught, he might as well crawl into bed with Peter and try it again, but on an awake Peter. He’s hesitant to do that though because he really does want Peter to rest, having fought so many criminals back to back on his own tonight. As he puts the first aid kit away, Wade passes by Peter’s door and can hear him snoring.

_Guess I should just let him rest._

Wade goes home, reflecting on the past few months and his ever-developing relationship with Peter. His hopes winning Peter’s affection and successfully proposing the marriage pact again are at an all time high now.

As soon as he gets inside, Wade kneels down by his dresser, pulling out the bottom drawer. He first takes out a blue ribbon that’s tied up into a small loop. He slips it over one of his fingers, seeing how well it fits around it. He then takes out a small box from the drawer and pulls out a ring. He replaces the ribbon with the ring, staring intently at it for any differences in size. Once he’s satisfied that it’s a close enough fit, like it is every day when he checks the ring, he puts it away, saying quietly to himself, “No depressive-episode-at-a-cheap-diner marriage pact this time! I’m going to do it right. I’ll make sure to sweep you off your feet properly.”


	6. Summer: Romance at a Wedding

One day in the middle of May, Peter wakes to find Wade in bed with him, even though they didn’t hang out the night before. Peter looks down and notes how he’s cocooned in the blankets, hoping he was like this when Wade arrived as opposed to stealing all of the blankets. As he moves to cover Wade, he notices that he’s in a ribbed tank and boxers and that there’s also a bookbag and a trail of clothes leading from the bedroom door. Not wanting to question it, Peter rolls back away from Wade to get a few more minutes of sleep. He barely settles into bed when he feels an arm land across his middle.

Peter places a hand over Wade’s. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to get an early start on that room.” Wade’s voice is rough with sleep.

Peter leans over and grabs his phone to see just how early Wade had intended, surprised to see that according to the time, they should have been working on clearing out more boxes by now. “Is that why you turned off my alarm?”

He feels Wade bury his face between his shoulder blades. His breath hot against Peter’s back as he says, “It was noisy.”

Removing Wade’s arm, Peter sits up and says, “That’s the point of an alarm. Now let’s go. We’re already behind schedule.”

Wade groans and grabs Peter’s pillow, placing it over his head.

“When did you get here anyways?” Peter stands up and pads around to Wade’s side of the bed.

“About four this morning. I had a small mission yesterday that took too long, and I was afraid I’d oversleep if I went home.”

“So you came here to oversleep instead?”

Peter pulls on Wade’s shoulder, trying to force him up. When Wade rolls over and the pillow falls from his face, he can see Wade nodding in response. Wade mumbles out a “You know me so well,” as he tries to roll back over, but Peter is having none of it. He tugs on Wade, forcing him upright and towards the edge of the mattress. It takes some awkward maneuvering, but he gets Wade to finally stand, mostly because of a promise for coffee.

Wade sticks his arms straight out, making grabby gestures with his hands and asking Peter to carry him to the kitchen. Peter walks out of the room without responding. Wade sulks for a moment before dragging himself to the kitchen, complaining loudly that Peter should use his superstrength more often, especially if it means that Wade doesn’t have to walk. He only stops complaining when Peter hands him a Pop-Tart. 

After breakfast, the room-cleaning commences. There’s a lot to go through, but Peter wants to focus only on things from his previous marriage. “I want to get it all sorted before the wedding so I don’t have to keep bothering her after she’s hitched,” Peter explains to Wade as he shoves aside a box of Aunt May’s belongings.

As Wade reorganizes the piles between MJ and Aunt May, Peter sorts through the items. Since Peter’s task takes longer, Wade takes it upon himself to help out, sorting a few boxes as best as he can on his own. He starts by pulling boxes out of the closet. The first is mainly paperwork, which he piles in the living like he saw Peter do last time. Next is a box of photos that he leaves for Peter to deal with, setting it down on the floor close to where Peter is kneeling. The third box he grabs also contains photos, but there is a small jewelry box inside as well. He doesn’t think much before opening it, seeing a simple wedding band inside. Wade furrows his brow before looking at the top photo in the box, seeing one of the wedding party photos from Peter's marriage.

“Hey, is this the ring you gave MJ? It’s a lot simpler than I thought it would be. And it’s kinda thick.”

“Can’t be hers. That ring was—”

Peter stops talking when he turns his head and sees what ring box Wade is holding. He watches in horror as Wade takes the ring out of the box, holding it up to the light. Peter jumps to his feet, panicking internally, unsure if he should come clean now or try to play it off.

“Man. I know she wasn’t a dainty woman, but were her fingers really this fat? Oh fuck! Did she do it like in the movies and throw the ring at you when she asked for a divorce? Because this bad boy would have left a _nasty_ welt.”

Peter tries to laugh it off, but it’s clear that his chuckle is forced and uncomfortable. Wade puts the ring back in the box and snaps it shut. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have joked about—”

“No, no, no. That’s not it. It’s just… yeah… she did. _Huge_ welt. Right between my brows. Looked like a freaking unicorn.”

Wade guffaws and mimed the act, making it appear like the ring box was soaring through the air and hitting him between the eyes. Peter’s panic subsides as Wade continues to make crazed faces and sound effects of what he believes the scene looked like. Once Wade gets all of his laughter out of his system, he puts the ring back in the photo box and hands everything to Peter.

They manage to get all of MJ’s stuff sorted and dropped off at her house without any other incidents. Peter goes home alone and pulls out the only photobox he has left, taking out the ring. He goes around the apartment, trying to find a new hiding place, only to place it back into the original container and tuck it under his bed.

_If he finds it again, hopefully he’ll still assume it’s MJ’s. But how am I going to explain to him it really was meant for him whenever I do propose?_

\- - - - - - -

At the start of June, on a weekend, Wade comes over to watch their last Brat Pack movie, _The Outsiders_. When he enters the apartment, he makes a beeline for the back bedroom, dropping off the two bags he’s carrying. Peter spots him passing by his bedroom door and follows. He watches Wade set the bags down haphazardly in the middle of the cleared-out portion of the room before turning to face Peter, staring at him wide-eyed.

“Moving in early?”

Wade shrugs. “Sorta. Figured I might as well move a few things over that I won’t need for a while before we begin moving the big items.”

Peter simply nods and heads for the living to begin their movie night.

As they watched the film, Peter struggles to not get choked up at a certain scene. He knows the story; he’s read the book and seen the movie, but it’s still hard for him to watch. Wade sees this and scoots closer until he’s curled up against Peter’s side, his head on his shoulder and an arm around his front. Peter fidgets until he can free an arm, placing it around Wade as if he’s the one that needs comforting. They stay like this until the credits stop rolling.

“Wanna go patrol to clear our heads?”

Peter nods once before he realizes there’s an issue. “Do you need to go home and get your suit?”

Wade hesitates before saying, “Actually… I don’t… I brought it with me.”

“Wait a minute. The bags you brought—”

Wade nods. “One really is stuff I can go ahead and store here. But since I was doing that, I figured I’d pack an overnight back, well, more like a weekend bag… if that’s okay. I mean, I’m here so often anyways, but I never have—”

“Of course that’s fine. Go get suited up.”

Wade grins and runs off while Peter slowly follows him into the hall. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he likes how Wade is eager to move in. He’s also been thinking about how to ask him to just spend the weekend with him, so he’s a bit relieved that Wade took it upon himself to be proactive, saving Peter from fumbling that particular conversation.

They patrol for a few hours, making small talk as they go from rooftop to rooftop, until they hear a scuffle in a nearby alley. Spider-Man jumps into action, swinging down and webbing the would-be mugger to a dumpster in one move. The other person in the alley picks up their wallet and runs off. As soon as Spider-Man swings up to the roof, Deadpool shouts.

“OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO COOL! You were like WOOSH, and then THWIP, and he was all like ‘WHAT THE!?’ and you just—”

Peter has to run over and place one hand on Deadpool’s mouth and the other grabs one of his arms. However, Wade’s free hand is still gesturing wildly as he mumbles his excitement into Spider-Man’s glove.

“DP. Chill out. I still need to contact the police.” Peter removes his hand as Deadpool slumps.

“Oh, come on! Can’t you just leave him webbed to the—”

“NO!”

“You’re no fun,” Wade mumbles as he goes to pout on the edge of the rooftop.

Once the criminal is taken away, the two men wrap up their patrol and head back to Peter’s apartment for the night. They both take turns getting cleaned up and poking at the leftovers in the fridge, Peter heading to bed while Wade is still in the shower.

When Wade returns to Peter’s bedroom, he sees Peter already sprawled out under the blankets. Switching off the lights, Wade tiptoes across the room and eases himself onto the bed, careful not to wake Peter. Once under the covers, Wade rolls onto his side and watches Peter, trying like many other nights before to determine if he’s already asleep. Wade only stares for a few seconds before leaning in for a sneaky goodnight kiss when Peter stirs. Wade freezes, suddenly afraid of getting caught again.

_The fuck am I doing? Why am I still acting this way?_

He props himself up on one elbow before he nudges Peter’s shoulder twice, whispering, “Hey, are you awake?”

He thinks he sees Peter move, but it’s hard for him to tell. He hasn’t been in the dark long enough for his eyes to adjust, and Peter is too close to Wade’s side of the bed, safely out of reach of the streetlight coming in from the blinds. When he thinks he feels Peter move, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

He waits for a response, not sure if Peter is really awake until he feels a hand on his cheek. Wade moves closer; he can feel Peter’s nose brush against his own. They both hesitate on the kiss, lips barely touching, until Peter presses forward, parting his lips slightly. Wade takes that as a sign to move forward, licking into Peter’s open mouth as he runs a hand through Peter’s hair. Peter is the one to suddenly break their kiss, turning his head away as he clears his throat loudly. A little _too_ loudly.

“Good night,” he mumbles out, scooting closer to his own side of the bed.

“Night.” Wade can barely hear his own voice but he’s not worried about it enough to repeat himself. He lies back on the bed properly so his head hits the pillow. Placing a hand over his chest, Wade takes a few deep breaths. He’s genuinely worried that Peter might hear how hard his heart is beating. Giving one last breathy laugh, Wade realizes he’s too giddy to sleep, not aware that Peter is in the exact same boat as him.

The next morning, they both wake to the sound of one of Wade’s phones going off. Wade rushes to the back bedroom to retrieve the burner. He answers the call, saying a few choice words to Weasel before agreeing to be somewhere within the next thirty minutes.

When Wade enters the hall again, Peter is standing in the doorway to his bedroom, squinting down the hall. Wade grins at Peter’s mussed up hair, his growing stubble, and the little bit of belly he sees as Peter reaches under his shirt to scratch his stomach.

“Mission?” Peter’s voice is deep and raspy.

Wade shakes his head. “Not quite, but I do have to go for a while. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when I get back.”

Peter nods once and heads straight for his bed, not needing to be told twice to sleep in. He hears Wade rummaging in the back bedroom before leaving. As soon as he hears the lock click, Peters breathes out hard. “What did I do!? How can I face him now without being all awkward!?”

Peter rolls around in bed before wiping a hand down his face roughly. When he first woke up, he was disoriented, not sure where the ringing was coming from. But when he saw Wade in the hall, what happened last night, how Wade had asked him a question he’s been dying to ask himself and how he responded to it by just going with the flow.

He lays in bed, unable to think about anything else but the kiss they shared, but soon after, his thoughts move on. He’s more concerned about where things will go now.

_I can’t keep skirting this issue. I need to let him know, and I need to bring up the marriage pact again, be honest with my feelings about it. But when should I do it? I mean, if I do it before MJ’s wedding, then there’s always the chance_ **—**

_Oh no… the wedding!_

Peter bolts out of bed and grabs his laptop. As it loads, he makes himself a pot of coffee, determined to buckle down and finally finish that speech.

Thanks to all the caffeine in his system and the ever insistent panic of finishing the speech he forgot about, Peter’s anxiety over the kiss has mostly subsided by the time Wade comes back, a bag of bagels in hand. Peter eyes him suspiciously when Wade pulls out three of the pastries.

“We’ve been through this before Wade. I’m not going to play nice this time.”

“OH!? Was blindsiding me, using webbing, and playing coy all what you consider playing nice?”

“Playing coy? What are you—”

“Besides, I was angry at Weasel, so one of these bad boys didn’t quite make it home.” Wade pats his stomach and says, “Rest in delicious, stodgy pieces.”

Peter takes a break from tweaking the final lines of his speech as he works on devouring one of the bagels, making Wade rehash what happened at Sister Margaret’s that made him so upset. Once Wade gets all his rage at Weasel out of his system, they start clearing out Aunt May’s belongings from the back bedroom. They’ve got a schedule, and the goal is to finish in the next two days. So they hang out, sort boxes, watch a movie, go on patrol, and sleep next to each other both days, but not once do they kiss or even bring up the awkward one from earlier in the week.

\- - - - - - -

The day before Mary Jane’s wedding, Wade paces his apartment, panicking over tomorrow. He’s supposed to head over to Peter’s soon, but every time he thinks about the wedding or Peter, he’s overcome with anxiety, worried that he’s about to ruin the best thing in his life.

He runs into his bathroom and grips the edge of his sink as he stares into the mirror.

“Enough dicking around! You’re going to grow a fucking pair and confront him about that fucking marriage pact! You’re going to let him know that you still want to go through with it, provided he wants to take it seriously this time, but not because you’re fucking sad, old bachelors, no. It’s because you fucking care for him, and you’re going to let him know you care for him and want to fucking be with him. And you’re going to say all that without throwing up—NOPE! No! I can’t!”

Wade turns from the sink and places a hand over his stomach. “Definitely gonna end up getting down on one knee and losing my lunch. Fuck! Do I really have to tell him out loud that I want to be with him? Can’t I just lose a few limbs instead? Van Gogh this bitch?”

Wade jumps in place, shaking out his arms and taking deep breaths. He cracks a few joints before heading over to Peter’s place, walking fast, each step more confident than the last. He unlocks the door and barges into the apartment, shouting, “HONEY, I’M HOME!”

“Hey, Wade,” comes a soft reply from the living room.

Wade marches into the room but freezes the moment he sees Peter. Peter looks up from a small stack of index cards, mouth still mumbling out the speech. He nods at Wade once before waving tentatively, but Wade doesn’t respond, not when he’s in his head, screaming for an escape. Peter looks around before holding up his mug and saying, “Mind topping me off?”

“Uh… sure!”

Wade takes the cup from Peter and heads into the kitchen, berating himself.

_How the fuck can you walk across minefields in a foreign country, but you can’t fucking tell the man you love that you really want to be with him? I swear, you—_

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Wade sets the coffee pot down on the counter roughly, briefly worried he might have cracked it, before turning back to the mug he overfilled. Now there’s coffee spilling from the counter onto the kitchen floor.

Wade looks around the kitchen for some paper towels, spotting them just as Peter steps in and asks, “What happened?”

“Nothing, I just—GOTDAMMIT!” Wade fumbles the paper towels, and the entire roll lands right into the small puddle of coffee on the floor. “Fucking—are you fucking serious!?”

Wade tears off more paper towels than necessary to deal with what’s left of the spill. Quickly, Peter kneels down in front of him, taking the roll in one hand and trying to clean it himself. Wade apologizes as he picks up the mug and sips just enough to prevent any more spillage. He wipes down the counter as Peter stands, grabbing the mug and taking a long sip himself while peering over the top of it at Wade.

“You okay?”

Wade gives the counter one last hard and fast wipe before responding. “Just peachy.”

“Is that some new Gen Z term for falling apart at the seams?”

Peter doesn’t wait for a response before setting his coffee cup down and pulling Wade in for a hug. Spill now forgotten, Wade tosses a wad of wet paper towels into the sink and wraps his arms around Peter. He nuzzles his face into Peter’s hair, breathing in the scent before sighing out loud.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

Wade shakes his head.

“You sure you’re ‘just peachy’, though?”

Wade doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Can you at least say _something_?”

Wade pulls back less than an inch, his vision filled with Peter’s hair. “You know… you have more grey hairs than I thought you did.”

“That’s from knowing you.”

Wade buries his face in Peter’s hair before mumbling, “It should be pure white then.”

Peter holds him tighter, caressing Wad’s back with one hand. “Seriously, Wade. You’re acting all weird and making messes. That’s my job. You’re the smooth one out of the two of us.”

Wade laughs, making Peter squirm against the feel of Wade’s breath on his scalp. Wade pulls back and looks at Peter, keeping his hands on Peter’s shoulders. As Peter slides his own hands to Wade’s waist, Wade takes a deep breath and says, “Honestly, I’m nervous about the wedding.”

“Why? It’s not _your_ ex-wife that’s getting married.”

Wade decides to go with Peter’s jestful attitude and replies with, “Exactly. She’s _your_ ex-wife, so I’m worried you’re going to get there and pull some sort of dramatic stunt.”

“I’m sure you’ll beat me to the punch and do it on my behalf.”

“Oh, cake will be flying across the room, that’s for sure.”

“Please don’t,” Peter says, tugging on Wade’s waist until they’re hugging again. “Please don’t—”

“Just one tiny dollop of icing,” Wade whispers. “Just one little spoonful flicked across the—”

“Wade, no!”

Wade nuzzles against Peter’s neck, unsure if he should keep joking.

“Quit moping. I know you know it’s not polite to initiate food fights at a wedding.”

Wade hums against his neck, making Peter shiver. He thinks about the wedding, the formal atmosphere of it, the romance about it, and his thoughts soon trail back to the ring hidden in his dresser drawer. He wonders if a setting such as that will be special enough for Peter.

_Maybe I can ask him at the reception how he feels about always being each other’s wedding dates… and somehow turn that into a question of seeing if we can get together, work our way to our own wedding one day. But is that going to be good enough? What exactly should I—_

“Are you really still moping over not being allowed to throw cake at the wedding?” Peter asks as he pulls back from Wade, frowning at him. “Fine. How about we watch a movie tonight, and I’ll let you throw popcorn at me if you promise to—”

“I’ll vacuum it up, I promise!”

Wade slips from Peter’s arms and rushes to the cabinet where Peter keeps the popcorn. Peter grabs his wrist, stopping him from opening the door. “Aren’t you here for a reason?”

Wade pouts. “I was hoping you’d forget.” He sulks off to the back bedroom to vacuum and clean it. It’s something he promised Peter he would do today so they can get straight to moving him in the day after the wedding.

As Wade completes his task, Peter goes back and forth between tidying the rest of the apartment and practicing his speech, using one to procrastinate on the other in turns. Two hours later, both men decide to start their movie night, too exhausted to do any more cleaning. Wade behaves himself during the movie, only throwing three kernels at Peter in an attempt to get him to catch them with his mouth. As soon as the movie is over, Peter stands to put the DVD away. Wade dives across the couch, picking up the stray kernels and popping each into his mouth instead of the garbage. He turns to look at Peter just in time to see him shaking his head at the sight.

“At least you cleaned up. Anyways, want to stay over since the wedding’s in the morning?”

“Sure! Lemme just run home and grab my suit and stuff.”

When Peter volunteers to walk with him, Wade declines, claiming he’s going to stop by Sister Margaret’s on the way to deal with some business. He knows that Peter hates stepping foot in that bar.

As soon as Wade makes it home, he packs a small overnight bag and grabs his suit for tomorrow. He leaves everything by the front door as he walks over to his bedroom. He spends nearly five minutes pacing back and forth in front of his dresser, opening and closing the bottom drawer, until he finally makes up his mind. He pulls out the ring box and opens it, looking at the gold band he picked out for Peter. It’s something sleek that’ll fit well under his gloves even when he’s suited up for hero work. Wade imagines how he’ll bring up that ‘forever wedding date’ line when the context finally hits him.

_I can’t propose at a wedding! I know it’s not a real proposal, not really, but it’s me talking about the marriage pact, so it sorta is… I think? But still… Isn’t that taboo or something? At the very least, it’s a dick move. I can’t do that to MJ!_

Wade closes the box and tosses it on his bed.

_Maybe I’ll just work on bringing up the pact in general, then go back to my original plan of a grand marriage proposal that’ll sweep Petey off his feet. Yeah… that should work… I’ll wait till the end of summer to bring up the pact, since the expiration date will be close by then. I can tell him my feelings and everything then. Don’t need to fuck up MJ’s reception._

Mind made up once and for all, Wade leaves the room, grabbing his suit and bag as he heads back to Peter’s apartment.

When Wade arrives, he doesn’t spot Peter. He calls out for him but gets no response. He goes to hang his suit up in the back room and finds Peter in his bedroom, practicing his speech and sighing heavily between each line. Wade drops off his stuff before slipping inside, hugging Peter from behind. Peter pats his arms as he works his way through the final lines.

Pulling back and clapping loudly, Wade cheers him on.

“Seriously now, what can I do to improve?” Peter asks, spinning around to face him.

The clapping stops as Wade drops his hands to the side suddenly. “The speech itself is fine. You just need to stop sounding so bored. It’s basically a party. Liven it up! Say it with some more gusto in your voice!”

“Not sure how I’m going to swing that when my nerves are getting to me this badly already.”

Wade pulls him into a hug, pressing his lips to Peter’s temple. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

“How is that going to help?”

“Just trust me. It’s going to work out.”

There is a brief silence between the two as Peter finally hugs him back. “Fine.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled, let’s get some sleep.”

It takes a while for both to get ready for bed since, each time they go to slip under the covers, they remember something they need to check before the wedding tomorrow. Their combined anxiety sometimes causes them to get up and check the same items two or three times. Eventually, Peter caves and takes a large swig from a Zzzquil bottle before going to lay down, prompting Wade to quirk his brow at him.

“What?”

“It starts with Zzzquil and next thing you know, you’re at an N.A. meeting in the basement of the local Methodist church.”

“I’m just trying to make sure I get some sleep since my mind is all ‘full speed ahead.’”

“Uh huh, sure,” Wade replies, taking a small sip from the same bottle on the nightstand before going to his side of the bed.

He turns off the lights and eases himself onto the mattress, scooting closer to Peter. Wade watches him for a moment, wondering what else he can do to help ease Peter’s stress. He tries to think of ways to distract him tomorrow, to get his mind off of the speech long enough to really enjoy the day, when a certain idea comes charging in and refuses to leave without any action.

Wade glances down to Peter’s lips, wondering if he should go about his usual route or if he should check and make sure Peter’s awake, like last time. As he reaches over to nudge him, Peter says, “Can’t sleep either?”

Wade startles, snatching his hand back. “Yeah, I suppose. But why can’t you sleep? Still nervous about the speech?”

“Yup.”

“You sure it’s not about who’s getting mar—”

“Don’t even go there. I’m probably going to hear so much of that tomorrow as is. It’s like I said, _a year ago_ , I’m genuinely happy for her. Besides, I’m pretty satisfied with my own life, so why do I have to be worried about her getting remarried?”

“Okay. Fair. Was just making sure.”

After a brief moment of silence, punctuated only by the sounds of the city night outside, Peter asks, “What about you? You still nervous about something?”

“I forgot to buy the traditional set of three toasters. Isn’t that what you usually do? Buy a shit ton of toasters?”

Peter chuckles, remembering the time Wade tagged along to check the wedding registries.

“Oh! _Did_ you get MJ a toaster or anything else like that?”

“Nah. I mean, I only showed up to her engagement party by accident, so all I gave her was a shock and a nice reminder of how awkward I am.”

“But you don’t plan on getting the newlyweds anything else?”

“I mean, what else can I give her at this point? I gave her back a lot of the stuff that was in storage, a few of Aunt May’s things that she might like, and everything else she got in the divorce, so, I think she’s good.”

The room is dead silent as both men process the words. Peter bolts up in bed, realizing how petty he just sounded. He tries to rephrase his words, but Wade beats him to the punch.

“ _DAMN_ , PETTY PETEY! You savage! You straight up gonna be like—”

Peter throws himself at Wade, trying to cover Wade’s mouth with his hands as he swears he doesn’t mean it the way it came out. Wade fights back, chanting ‘savage Petey’ and grabbing both of his wrists. They wrestle each other, both trying to voice their words while preventing the other from speaking. That is until Wade rolls over, effectively pinning Peter beneath him. Wade is lying half on top of Peter, legs uncomfortably angled across Peter’s as he uses both arms to keep his upper body from crushing him. He stares at Peter for a moment before eyeing his lips, the only part he can see in the sliver of light coming in from the window. When Peter squirms underneath him and frees a hand, Wade mumbles an apology and rolls off.

Peter quickly follows the motion and grabs one of Wade’s shoulders, stopping him from rolling onto his back. Then they lie there, both on their sides, facing each other but not saying a word. After what feels like hours to Wade, Peter inches forward, his hand sliding up along Wade’s shoulder to his neck. As Peter leans his head in, he moves his hand to Wade’s cheek, caressing it gently.

“Is this okay?” Peter asks quietly, his breath brushing past Wade’s cheek, letting him know firsthand just how close they really are.

“More than okay.”

Peter moves in slowly, giving Wade a chaste kiss. As he pulls back, Wade tries to lean in for another, but Peter cuts him off.

“Promise me you’ll make a scene if I start to bomb the speech.”

“Oh, you must really be nervous if you’re allowing me to act up. But can I make a scene regardless of how you do on the—”

“No!”

“Fine! Guess I’m not making a scene because I know you won’t bomb. Just keep your eyes on me.”

Peter sighs heavily. He rolls over onto his other side, facing the window. “All right. I will.”

Wade scoots closer until he can spoon Peter. He presses his face close to Peter, mumbling against his neck. “Everything will be fine. Don’t worry. Just take a page from me and let go, allow yourself to have fun with the situation. Do I need to bring another WarHead?”

“Oh good grief, no!” Peter laughs and reaches down, patting Wade’s hand. “I’ll try to have fun tomorrow. Thanks for being there for me.”

Wade presses a kiss to the nape of his neck. “Of course.”

The next morning, Peter and Wade dress in their respective rooms. As Peter picks at his suit, not completely satisfied with the length of the sleeves, Wade knocks on the door.

“Come in.”

The door flies open as Wade struts into the room. Wade is wearing a checker patterned suit, the design extends to the jacket, vest, and slacks. The look is topped off with a high collared white shirt and a bowtie that more closely resembles black ribbons with an oversized jeweled brooch smack in the middle. Peter points straight to Wade’s neckline and asks, “What is _that_?”

“A bowtie.”

Peter points to his own. “No. _This_ is a bowtie. _That_ looks like a rejected gothic Christmas bow with one of Aunt May’s brooches on it. _Is_ that one of Aunt May’s brooches?”

“You’re just mad because I can actually pull off one of her brooches.” Wade takes three quick steps towards Peter, hip-checking him so he can better access the mirror on Peter’s closet door.

“Wade. Are you really going to wear this… this thing you call a _bowtie_?”

“Of course! The outfit isn't complete without it.” Wade turns and gives Peter a challenging look. “If you don’t want me to wear this, you’ll have to give me a kiss instead.”

When Peter only stares at him blankly, Wade fears that his plan disguised as a joke has flopped. He reaches up to his tie, trying to think of a way to play it off, when Peter advances on him. However, instead of the gentle, almost cautious kisses he’s starting to expect from Peter, it feels more like Peter slams his mouth against Wade’s. As he flinches against the rough and messy contact, Wade can tell that it was intentional and meant to get back at him, causing him to regret teasing Peter the way he did.

“Well, damn. If you really didn’t want me to wear it, you didn’t have to go and—”

“You can wear it.”

Wade’s look of surprise is missed by Peter, who leans in for one more gentle peck, one so quick that Peter is halfway out of the room by the time Wade tries to bring his hands up and pull Peter closer.

Once they ensure they have everything they need for the wedding and after Wade gives Peter another pep talk about the speech, they leave the apartment and hail a taxi to the church. As they sit in the backseat, Wade places a hand over Peter’s, reminding him not to let two minutes of giving a toast get to him and distract from the fun and excitement of this event.

Peter just stares out the window as he flips his hand over, holding Wade’s. “That won’t be a problem with you here.”

Once they make it to the church, Wade lets go of Peter’s hand but sticks close to him, even keeping his knee pressed against Peter’s all through the service.

Halfway into the ceremony, Peter spots Mary Jane’s grandpa nodding off, his head tilted all the way back and his mouth hanging open. Peter points the man out to Wade and says, “Mood.”

Wade turns his head and tries pressing his mouth into his shoulder, attempting to stifle a laugh but making a weird snorting sound instead. Peter struggles not to chuckle in response and bites his lip in the process. Once Wade regains his composure and feels it’s safe for him to talk without laughing aloud, he leans in and whispers to Peter. “You’re right. I really shouldn’t talk like that. I need to drop those words.”

Peter grins wickedly as he slowly turns his head and meets Wade’s eyes. “You mean _yeet_ those words?”

Wade bites his knuckles, trying not to laugh. Suddenly the organ begins playing and Wade uses the noise to harshly whisper, “No! _You_ are not allowed to use ‘yeet’ again! It doesn’t sound right coming from you!”

“Okay, boomer.”

Wade mimes clutching his pearls. “Now I _know_ I didn’t teach you that one! What _other_ millennials have you been hanging around!?”

Peter has to bend over in his seat and use both hands to stifle his laugh.

During the reception, Wade and Peter sit at one of the front tables, listening to the DJ play tracks as guests continue to file into the hall and waiters asking them for drink orders as soon as they’re seated. Both men can hear the two small children at a nearby table talking loudly, namely the one that keeps asking his mother why Wade’s skin looks the way it does.

Peter reaches under the table and squeezes Wade’s hand for support. He knows that Wade likes to hide behind self-deprecating humor, to pretend that his worst self-image days don’t exist, but it’s all a facade. Wade leans over and whispers, “Don’t worry. I’ll get him back.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Wade pulls his hand away from Peter’s and pats him on the shoulder, before turning to the wait staff who arrive with their food.

Not long after, the table with the two kids receives their food as well, and the child with the mouth also has some strong opinions about the meal on his plate. Wade places his knife and fork down as he glances over at the children.

“Wade. _Please_. Don’t—”

Wade spins in his seat. “Hey!” The child looks up, and Wade gestures wildly to his own face. “This right here is what happens if you don’t eat your vegetables.”

Two beats pass before the child starts crying. He shakily brings his fork to his mouth, a sliver of broccoli floret going past his teeth before Wade turns back in his seat.

“Mission accomplished,” Wade states proudly before stabbing an asparagus stalk and taking a bite from the tip. He looks over to Peter who has hung his head in his hands. “Hey, now he’s eating his damn greens and he knows what happened to my face. It’s a win-win!”

“If you say so,” Peter mumbles before resuming his meal.

Soon, it’s time for speeches and toasts. Before Peter heads towards the stage, he panics momentarily. He empties his pockets in a mad search for his notecards, eventually finding them inside his jacket pocket. Wade grabs Peter’s phone and keys from the table, pocketing them himself as he gestures for Peter to get going. “I got this. Just get up there and remember to look at me if you feel like you’re about to freak out.”

Peter simply nods, wondering if that means he should just stare at Wade the entire time. As soon as he says the first line, he makes eye contact with Wade, who blows him a kiss before giving him a finger wave. Peter resumes the speech, smiling now as he recites the lines written on his cards.

The next time his eyes pass over Wade, Wade pretends to flip his hair, ending the motion with a slide of his hand behind his ear, as if tucking a lock of hair back. Peter nearly loses it in the middle of his own joke about Mary Jane.

When Peter finally reaches the sentimental ending of his speech, feeling his nerves start to get the better of him when he catches his former in-laws staring, he looks back over to Wade. Peter nearly chokes on his own spit when he sees Wade sitting there, head resting on his fists as he holds a flower from the centerpiece in between his teeth.

As Peter raises his glass to the new couple, wishing them happiness in their life together, he realizes that Wade was right about everything working out if Peter just kept his eyes on him.

When Peter takes his seat, he thanks Wade for making him smile. It earns him another overly flirty gesture in response.

After all the toasts and speeches, it was time for the bride and groom’s first dance. They watch the newlyweds slowly spin their way around the dancefloor.

“D’you think I’d look good in a wedding dress like that?”

“No.”

Wade gives Peter an offended look.

Peter shrugs at Wade and tugs on his lapel. “Patterned suits are more your style.”

Wade looks down and runs a hand across the front of his suit, even more pleased with his latest purchase. He’s about to ask Peter which pattern he likes best when the DJ announces that the floor is now open for all guests. Wade clamps his mouth shut and grabs Peter’s wrist, marching them straight to the center of the dancefloor.

Wade spins around and pulls Peter close, holding him by the waist. He sways to the music before Peter can fully get his bearings. As Peter stumbles the first few steps while trying to find a good place for his hands, he complains, “What’s the rush? We didn’t have to dance the second the floor opened.”

“No, but there’s only a few more seconds of this first slow song left. And I don’t know how many more slow songs MJ has requested of the DJ. Don’t want to risk not getting to dance like this with you later during the reception.”

As if right on cue, the song ends and a radio top 40 hit starts playing. Wade drops his hand from Peter, but Peter keeps his hands on Wade’s shoulders. “You really think I won’t come and find you every time a slow song comes up?”

Wade grins. “Promise?”

“Of course, as long as I don’t have to…” Peter trails off and tries to subtly point out a couple who appeared to be raving more so than dancing.

“Your ass better be front and center as soon as the tempo drops!”

Peter laughs. “Don’t worry, I will. Now go terrorize the other dancers.”

Peter slips out and heads back to the table, while Wade creates a wide ring around him of amused guests. Before Peter can fully exit the dancing area, he’s stopped by Gwen. This causes a chain reaction of Peter catching up with old friends. Some make idle chat while others are more interested in the details of his current life. His only break comes in the form of a slow song, where he excuses himself to go find Wade, spending four minutes spinning around the dancefloor in slow circles. When the song ends, Peter finds himself pulled back into conversations, this time ending with Gwen coming around to ask him how he feels being at Mary Jane’s wedding.

Looking back to the dancefloor, Peter quickly spots Wade who is spinning around the little girl who was seated next to the child Wade terrorized earlier. “Good. I feel good. Honestly haven’t felt this good about things in quite some time.”

They spend more time catching up before Wade runs up to Peter, pulling off his bowtie as he goes. He hands it and his jacket to Peter, saying, “Hold this for me, will you, darling?”

Peter folds the jacket in his arms and places the bejeweled black ribbon monstrosity on top. Wade winks at him before pulling out a handkerchief, dabbing his brow before jogging back to the dancefloor.

“Still quite the character, I see.”

Peter turns back to Gwen. “You should go dance with him.”

“What!?”

“Go on. Go see how much of a character he is.”

“I don’t think I can keep up. Why don’t you go and—”

“I’m sure you’ll keep up just fine. And besides, I have dibs on him for all the slow songs.”

“Oooooh! I see!” Gwen gives him a knowing look before skipping off to the dancing area.

He watches Wade and Gwen dance for a few moments before heading back to the table to drop off Wade’s clothes. He only manages a few steps before another slow song comes on. He barely has time to toss Wade’s jacket onto the back of his chair when Wade grabs his hand and pulls him back to the dance floor while shouting, “You’re late!”

Wade tries to drag Peter back to the center, but Peter stops him short, tugging on his arm and making him spin back around. He steps into Wade’s space, body nearly flush against Wade’s, as he places both arms around Wade’s waist. Catching on, Wade smirks as he clasps his own hands just behind Peter’s neck and inches closer.

He leans close to Peter’s ear and whispers, “Are those keys in your pocket or are you just that happy to be dancing with me?”

Without missing a beat, Peter reminds Wade, “You took my keys, remember? They’re in your jacket.” He jerks his head back over to the table where he left Wade’s blazer.

Wade’s jaw goes slack. He gawks at Peter, wide-eyed. Peter slides a hand between them and slips it into his own pant’s pocket, pulling out Wade’s bowtie and holding it up for him to see. As he pockets it again, Wade laughs. Peter explains that he’s happy to dance with him, just not in that manner. Wade chuckles and rests his head on Peter’s shoulder.

They slow dance that way for the next verse until Wade lifts his head just enough to have it pressed to Peter’s ear. As soon as the chorus hits, Wade whispers, “Do you remember our marriage pact?”

Peter accidently kicks Wade’s shoe as he fumbles a step, muttering out an apology in the process. He regains his balance and slides one of his hands from Wade’s waist to the small of his back. “Yeah. I remember.”

They stay silent for a while until Wade says, “You think you’re going to find someone in the next two months?”

Peter shrugs. “It’s possible. Although, I technically have less than two months at this point.”

Wade nods slowly. “Right, right. So… do you have anyone in mind?”

Peter feels as though Wade’s tone is heavily flirtatious yet somehow serious. Peter clears his throat and looks at Wade, toying with his lip between his teeth as he works up the nerve to answer. Before he can respond, Peter feels a tap on his shoulder.

“Mind if I cut it?”

Peter gapes at Mary Jane until Wade says, “Go right ahead. You are the bride after all.”

Giving Wade a quick apologetic look, Peter steps to the side to slow dance with MJ.

“Thank you so much for that lovely toast!”

“Sure thing, MJ. I’m really happy for you.”

“And so am I,” she replies, jerking her head towards Peter’s table where Wade is now sitting.

Peter glances over at Wade and his smile immediately broadens. “Is it that obvious?”

She laughs heartily. “Oh yeah! Very! So who asked out who?”

Peter’s face falls. “Uh… I guess… it just kinda happened? Sorta? I mean, we’ve just been this way for a few months now, if that makes sense.”

“Guess it doesn’t matter how it happens, just that it does happen.”

Peter nods, looking over at Wade who is narrowing his eyes at MJ suspiciously. Soon enough, the groom cuts in, and Peter is left standing there, frowning at Wade. He jerks his head to tell Wade to come back to the dancefloor, which he does in a hurry.

As soon as Wade’s arms are around him, Peter says, “Someone was looking jealous.”

“Hm? Really?”

“I saw the way you were glaring at her.” Peter stops swaying when the music changes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Riiight. So… I guess you don’t want to leave early and hang out, you know, just the two of us?”

Wade’s face goes through a series of emotions before he sets his jaw firmly. Grabbing Peter’s hand, he heads to the exit. “I mean, if you insist. We can head out now.”

Because of the crowded parking situation, they have to walk quite a distance before they reach an area where they can hail a cab. They make it about two blocks when Wade’s phone rings. Wade stares at it, confused, when he sees Peter’s name on the screen. Peter already knows what’s going on but still pats down his pockets while Wade answers the phone.

“Hey, is this Wade?”

“I’m guessing this isn’t Peter…” Wade says giving Peter a confused look.

Peter gestures for him to hand over the phone. “Hey, who is this?”

“Peter! Hey! It’s Gwen. Seems your friend left his jacket and your stuff here. By the way, MJ says you really need to change up your phone password at least once in your life.”

Peter laughs. “Thanks. Mind holding it for us until we get back?”

“Sure thing!”

Peter hangs up and hands Wade his phone back. “Seems we left your jacket and, therefore, my keys and phone at the reception hall.”

“Jesus, fuck, Petey, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot—”

“Wade, it’s fine. They weren’t lost and the only reason we forgot about them is because we were too busy having fun. Well, I was. You were sulking in the corner, acting all jealous and—”

“Was not!” Wade says before stomping off back towards the church. Peter rushes to catch up, holding his hand as they make their way to the reception hall.

When they arrive at the church and retrieve their belongings, the guests are gathering outside the steps, preparing for the big send-off. One of the bridesmaids hands two small bubble containers to Peter, making him feel obligated to stay. The two men find a spot near the end of the pathway, and Peter hands one of the tiny bubble tubes to Wade, who immediately opens it and blows a bubble. Peter nudges him and whispers for him to stop, which Wade does with a pout.

Peter then takes out his own bubble wand, looking at the rainbow pattern playing across the soapy fluid as he says, “Since when did they stop throwing rice?”

He can see Wade shrugging next to him, saying a few words, but it’s drowned out by a person on the steps telling everyone to get ready. Peter looks up the steps and sees the groom standing inside the hall, looking eager for his bride to catch up. He is grinning and staring off to the side, most likely at Mary Jane. Otherwise, he seems completely unconcerned by the cheering crowd outside. Something about the sight made Peter think of Wade and the marriage pact they made, wishing that it was him up there waiting on Wade. He can envision it now, Wade would probably be trying to steal a centerpiece or one last plate of food before making his way to the exit, and Peter laughs at the thought before he turns back to Wade.

“—but that’s why I don’t think MJ wanted to use rice; I don’t know.” Wade looks at Peter, confused by the glazed look. “You zoning out there while thinking about rice?” Wade ignores Peter’s head shake. “Fried or steamed?”

Peter breathes out a laugh and decides to go with the joke instead of bringing up the pact. “And here I thought you knew me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cajun.”

“OH! Can we do Cajun for dinner? I know we just ate not too long ago, but I worked up an appetite on the dance floor.”

“Where would we even get Cajun food from at this hour?”

Wade’s eyes lit up and he’s about to reply when the crowd cheers loudly at MJ’s arrival. As the send-off commences, the crowd blows bubbles between all the shouts of jubilation. MJ and her husband race down the stairs and towards the waiting car. Once they drive off, Wade takes both their bubble bottles and pockets them, claiming he wants to save them for later.

When they begin their trek back home again, Wade suddenly spins to face Peter, clapping his hands together loudly. “That’s right! Cajun! I got some stuff at my place; I can whip you up something if you just want to come over right now.”

“Sure. But isn’t your stuff supposed to be all packed up for the move tomorrow?”

“Eh…”

Peter shakes his head. “You know you don’t need to move in if you—”

“No! I will! Just thought that we could do it together tonight, like how I helped you with Aunt May’s stuff.”

“You were going to wait until the morning.”

“I was.” Wade sighs heavily before grabbing Peter’s hand and giving him a pleading look. “But can we at least have dinner first before we pack?”

Peter nods as he slides his fingers between Wades. “Sounds good.” He looks down at their hands a few times as they walk, smiling softly to himself, wondering when he first began feeling comfortable enough to do things like this with Wade.

As soon as they’re inside, Wade goes into his room to get a change of clothes for Peter. When he turns around with a spare set of sweats and a white tee, he sees two things: Peter standing in the doorway and the ring box on his bed. Wade has never charged at Peter so quickly in his life, nearly knocking him down as he tries to shove the change of clothes into Peter’s arms. Peter is complaining and trying to avoid getting trampled by Wade, but Wade shoves him down the hall and into the bathroom. He doesn’t stop until Peter is almost in the tub, and then Wade rushes out, slamming the bathroom door behind himself. Sprinting into his room and snatching the ring box off his bed, Wade tosses it into the drawer he left open and slams it shut. He slumps against the dresser and takes a few deep breaths.

“Holy shit. Accidentally proposing is _not_ what I meant by a unique proposal. Damn.” Wade stands and changes out of his suit. As he’s pulling a new pair of pants on, Peter steps into the doorway, carrying his suit in his arms.

“What was that about?”

“Hmm?” Wade quickly brushes past him and heads into the kitchen. “I was just in a hurry to get dinner going… Was getting a bit hangry.”

The rest of the evening is more relaxed, with a casual dinner at the dining table that Wade has recently moved into the kitchen area. They pack up a few more of Wade’s belongings until Peter checks the weather, noting that there will be rain for the rest of the weekend, meaning they have more time to pack until they can drag Wade’s furniture across town.

A few days later, the rain finally subsides enough for the real move. Wade borrows a truck from a mercenary friend, and they bring over all the furniture and most of the boxes. As they load the truck up one last time, they check the apartment, finding a few small items here and there, mainly cleaning supplies that need to stay put for now.

“And there’s stuff in that room that I’ll take care of later tonight, after dark.”

Peter knows Wade means the weapons he stores in the second bedroom that Peter never enters. He’s told Wade that he’s okay with him bringing them to the new apartment, but Wade insists on storing them at Sister Margaret’s so they don’t clutter up his new bedroom.

They bring the last load of items into Peter’s apartment, stacking everything in the living room with the rest of Wade’s personal effects.

“Do you want to unpack now or get cleaned up and go celebrate the move.”

Wade, who’s sprawled out on the floor in exhaustion, picks his head up just enough to grin at Peter. “Celebrate! Most definitely!” He grunts as he struggles to stand from the floor and makes his way into the bathroom.

Peter takes it upon himself to at least move a few more boxes into Wade’s room for him. The first time he passes by the bathroom, he hears the shower running and Wade singing. The second time he passes by, Wade shouts at him. “Hey! Petey!”

Peter leans closer to the door, nearly fumbling the box he’s carrying. “Yeah?”

“I forgot my shampoo. Can I borrow yours?”

Peter stares at the door in confusion. “Why do you need—”

“Nevermind! I’m good!” Wade immediately begins singing again.

_I guess this is my life now. At least I won’t be bored._

Shaking his head, Peter heads to Wade's room with a box marked ‘clothes.’

Later, while Peter is cleaning up, Wade rearranges the kitchen like they planned, putting up all of Aunt May’s kitchen supplies that Wade wants to keep. Once Peter is washed up and dressed for a night out, he walks into the kitchen to find Wade hunched over a drawer, cursing up a storm as he struggles to put everything he‘s kept into the drawer and closes it. The scene itself isn’t cute, but Peter can’t help but to smile. He feels good about living with someone he cares about again. Watching Wade for a moment, Peter notices it’s the measuring cups that are just a little too tall for the drawer shut smoothly.

“Aunt May hung those on the wall if you wanna do that.”

Wade stands upright and holds the measuring cups against the wall, assessing how that will look. He turns back to Peter and gives him a nod of approval. Wade then bumps the drawer with his hip, slamming it shut. He pumps his fist into the air and shouts, “FUCK YEAH!” He walks past Peter to slip on his shoes, glancing up as he asks, “Ready to go celebrate?”

Peter ends up taking Wade to his favorite Italian restaurant, fully intent on making this another date. Right when the waitress shows up and asks for their drink order, Wade’s burner rings.

“Ah, hell, I’ll be right back.”

Wade darts off, leaving both the waitress and Peter gaping at him.

“Should I come back later?” she asks, staring off at Wade as he exits the restaurant.

“It’s fine. We’ve already discussed what appetizers to get.”

Peter puts in an order for bruschetta and stuffed mushroom caps. After he tells the waitress his drink order, she asks, “And what about your partner? Do you know what he wants?”

“House cab,” Peter says at the same time as Wade, who is walking back towards the table.

The waitress gives Peter an impressed look before leaving to put in their order.

“What was that about?” Peter nods towards the pocket where Wade keeps his burner.

“Weasel’s trying to set up a drop off time. Told him I’ll be there before the bar closes, so it should be fine. But what about you? Didn’t want to correct her?”

“Huh? Correct who?”

“The nice little lady who thinks I’m somehow good enough to be your partner.”

“I mean… there’s nothing wrong with assuming that. This place has got that date night atmosphere and everything.”

“Uh-huh. Is that so? You just assumed that she thought that—”

“I mean that, and we have basically been dating for a while now.”

Peter distracts himself with his water cup, taking a slow, long sip as if it can help prevent the blush that he feels heating his face. He intentionally doesn’t look at Wade as he waits for a reply, but he doesn’t even hear a peep from the other side of the table. Peter keeps the drink to his lips as he chances a glance towards Wade, finding him staring at Peter with a blank expression. Peter places his glass down and tries to backtrack on his words when Wade lunges across the table, grabbing Peter’s face as if to kiss him. Peter allows the rough smack of lips against his cheek as he turns to grab the other complementary water cup that Wade nearly knocks over. He shoves at Wade, forcing him back into his seat.

“What’s your deal!?” Peter complains as he uses his napkins to clean up the tiny bit of water that did manage to spill. “You know better than to do that kind of stuff in public!”

“Oh. Oh! So at home, you won’t mind, right?”

Peter realizes how Wade misconstrued his words and processes the reply, realizing that he really wouldn’t mind, not enough to scold Wade at least. The warmth in his face spreads to his neck, and Peter busies himself with the menu, opening it up and holding it upright so Wade can’t see him. “Do you know what you want yet?”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”

The rest of their date goes smoothly as the two men eat and make plans on how to rearrange the living room since Peter’s old couch is still there. Peter agrees to allow Wade to make a fort until Peter manages to sell the couch, Wade joking that it will most likely go to a desperate college student this fall. When the waitress arrives with the check, there’s a bit of an argument over who will pay for the meal. Ultimately, Peter wins in the end by kicking Wade in the shin and telling the waitress to take his card and run.

Wade hisses in pain and reaches down, rubbing at his leg. “Damn, if this is you when we’re _basically_ together, then I’m not sure—Dammit, Weas!” Wade takes out the ringing burner and excuses himself again.

When the waitress comes back, she hands the receipt to Peter, thanking him profusely for the tip. Peter glares over at Wade who is walking back to the table with a smug expression and flashing his credit card.

When they leave the restaurant, Wade tells Peter to take the first taxi home, since he’s going to go deal with his ‘tools’ now to prevent Weasel from calling again. Just before Peter steps into the cab, Wade kisses his temple and tells him, “I’ll see you at home.”

Peter spends the entire ride home freaking out internally.

_A few months ago I was panicking over how to bring up the pact, and now we’re living together and apparently he’s okay with me saying we’re basically together, judging by that scene we caused. Do I even need to bring it up? I mean, it might be easier to just let things play out, see where they go from here naturally._

_Then again, does he still want to go through with the pact? He did ask me at MJ’s wedding about it, if I’ve found someone. Is he expecting us to get hitched after I turn forty in a few months? I mean, he’s my best friend, and I can see us working out, but maybe I should let him know how I feel, that I want that life with him in due course, not just because of some silly marriage pact._

Meanwhile, Wade moves over most of his weapons to a storage room in Sister Margaret’s. The whole time he works to organize his belongings safely, his mind trails back to Peter failing to correct the waitress. He doesn’t realize how excited he is by Peter’s passive comment until he stands to leave, his duffle bag full of his most favorite weapons.

“What is your face doing?” Weasel asks as he wipes down the counter with a dirty rag. “Is that supposed to be a smile? Stop that! You’re creeping out the customers. And me!”

Wade flips him off as he exits the bar, eager to see Peter.

Once home, Wade attempts to unpack a few more boxes before going to bed. Peter doesn’t notice as he groggily prepares for sleep. After brushing his teeth, he pops his head into Wade’s room. “I’m turning in. Goodnight.” Peter pads down the hall to his room without waiting for a reply.

Wade drops the piles of clothes he’s carrying onto the bed and strips down to his boxers and undershirt. He knows that Peter’s comment isn’t an invitation, but he’s taking it as one. He’s already thought to use the excuse that his mattress is still bare.

As Peter settles into bed, he hears the door open. He sits up, peering in the dark. “Wade?”

Instead of a reply, he feels a weight settle next to him on the bed. Peter chuckles quietly and lays back down. Before he can get comfortable again, Wade presses close to him, throwing a leg over his and laying an arm by Peter’s head to hold himself up.

Wade kisses Peter once on the forehead, then again on the cheek, followed by one last kiss on the tip of his nose.

“What’s gotten into you?”

After another kiss on the cheek, Wade pulls back and gives Peter a confused look. “I mean, we _are_ _basically_ _dating_ , like you said. So, this should be _basically okay._ Basically. This _is_ okay, isn’t it? At least _basically_ okay?

Peter groans. “Are you mad because I said ‘basically’ instead of saying we are dating flat out?”

“And if I am?”

“What do you want me to do? Claim that we are most definitely, completely dating? Want me to go full Stevie Wonder and say ‘signed, sealed, delivered, I’m yours?’”

“God, you’re old,” Wade mumbles before kissing Peter on the temple.

“That is what you want though?”

“Maybe… I mean… do you want it too?”

“Whatever you want.”

Wade rolls his eyes at the comment before leaning over and pressing a kiss to Peter’s lips. “I want you.”

He brushes back Peter’s fringe, dragging his fingers down until they rest on Peter’s cheeks. Peter turns his head and presses a kiss to one of Wade’s fingertips, then the next. As he goes for the third, Wade moves his hand and turns Peter’s face back towards him. He moves his lips across Peter’s gently, more like a short caress than a kiss, before asking, “Is this okay?”

Peter tries to reply when Wade does it again. This time he asks, “I mean okay-okay, not basically-okay.”

“Just shut up.”

Peter closes the distance between their lips, and Wade shifts the arm he’s using to hold himself up, allowing his body to dip lower so he’s pressing closer to Peter. He opens his mouth slightly, and Peter reciprocates. Seeing his advances welcomed, Wade takes the opportunity to swipe his tongue along Peter’s bottom lip to see how he’ll react. Peter struggles to get a hand under Wade, but when he does, he wraps his arms around Wade’s middle and pushes up against him, flipping them both over so they’re now on Wade’s side of the bed with Peter on top. Wade lies there in shock at Peter’s sudden move, struggling to think of the last time Peter was ever this forward. Placing a hand on Wade’s jaw, Peter leans in, kissing him briefly before licking into Wade’s mouth. Wade tries to grab Peter’s waist to pull him closer, but Peter pulls back and rolls off of him.

“We have to wake up early to clean out your old place and turn in your keys.”

Wade groans loudly and rolls over on his side. He’s prepared to pout until he falls asleep but stops when he feels Peter press up against him. He grins as Peter slides an arm back around his waist.

“Fucking finally! Little spoon action!”

He feels Peter laugh against his shoulder blade.

“It’s not funny! I’ve been wanting this shit for a while now. Like, since we’ve _basically_ started dating without you telling me that we were.”

“Never gonna let that go, are you?” Peter’s breath feels hot against the back of Wade’s neck.

“As long as we’re together, nope! But… How long have we actually been dating?”

“Why does it matter? It’s not like we’re some high school teens that gotta celebrate every _monthiversary_ or whatever.”

For the past few minutes, Wade has considered reestablishing the marriage pact during an anniversary instead of summer’s end, feeling that the day itself might need to be special too. “Come on. I just want to know.”

Peter thinks about all the times he had an intrusive romantic or affectionate thought about Wade since his divorce. He briefly wonders if they would have gotten together sooner if he hadn’t allowed himself to fall so deep into depression. Then he realizes that his second season of sadness after he returned from the multiverse actually helped open his eyes to their friendship and the potential within it.

_I might have taken even longer to realize how important you are to me if it wasn’t for that._

“Petey. Tell. Me.”

“Well, outside of random thoughts or urges, it’s been a pretty persistent feeling since that New Year’s Eve Party. So, maybe since then… at least for me.”

“Oh, so you’re going to ignore all the years I spent pining after you?”

Peter chuckles. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Now go to sleep.”

Wade lays there and does the math for Peter’s claim of New Year’s Eve.

_If I try to aim for six months, that’s less than a week away! No way I can plan the perfect proposal for Petey by then! But one year means I’ll have to wait till the end of December, and all my plans are better suited for summer, not winter… Fuck it. Just going to stick with the original plan. I’ll wait till the end of summer, just before his birthday, and pop the question then._

_But since we’re together now, isn’t it just an actual proposal and not the fulfillment of a marriage pact? And if we’ve only been together for a few months… is that too soon for him?_

Wade groans long and loud, ending it with a short string of profanity.

Peter gently rubs his hand across Wade’s chest and stomach. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Go back to sleep.”

Wade curls up a little more, pressing back against Peter. He feels Peter hand stop, tightening around his middle as he nuzzles against Wade. Smiling to himself, Wade decides to stop stressing about the proposal.

_I’ll just wait ’til next summer. That's plenty of time to plan out exactly how to sweep him off his little Spidey-feets._

The next day, the pair go to Wade’s old apartment to grab the last few items and clean. Wade zones out for a moment, staring into his kitchen. Seeing that, Peter comes up and places an arm around him. “You gonna miss this place?”

“Huh? Oh. No. You know me, I move every year or so. Never really get attached to a particular place. Although… there are a few things I didn’t get to do here…”

Peter doesn’t like the look Wade gives him, that mischievous glint in his eyes that means Peter is about to be wrapped up in something he never agreed to. As expected, Wade grabs his hand and drags Peter into his old bedroom.

“There’s something I always wanted to do here.”

Before Peter can ask what it is, Wade turns and steers Petera few steps backwards. Peter bumps against the wall, reaching his hands back to gain his bearings. Wade then holds Peter’s face gingerly in his hands and steps forward, pressing up against him with his whole body while his lips meet Peter’s. By the time Peter relaxes into the kiss, his hands have moved up to find purchase on Wade’s hips. Feeling the consent, Wade trails his mouth across Peter’s cheek. The stubble there causes Wade’s lips to sting a little, but he’s not one to be deterred by a little pain. He continues kissing along Peter’s jaw but stops when Peter grips his shoulder, saying, “Wait!”

Just then, there is a loud knock on the door. Wade startles while Peter mumbles under his breath. “Knew it.”

“Oh? Spidey-sense?”

Peter nods before gesturing for Wade to go answer it. Staying behind in the room to catch his breath, Peter hears another knock followed by Wade opening the door.

There is no greeting, just a raspy voice asking, “The keys?”

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a minute to check around one last time.”

Suddenly recalling all of Wade’s complaints about his rude landlord and how they would butt heads at every turn, Peter steps out from the room to act as a buffer.

Wade passes him in the short hallway, saying he’s going to check the back room first. Peter heads to the front of the apartment, curious to see what this terrible landlord looks like. He finds a balding older man inspecting the cabinets and grumbling to himself. When the man opens the cabinet under the sink, his griping turns into a deep chuckle.

“Oh, that’s the deposit right there! Plus, it’s still leaking.”

“That’s probably because you never did your job and fixed the leak.” Peter’s shocked by his tone, but not as much as the landlord.

“Who are you? Why are you here? Don’t tell me I already have squatters in—”

“Squatters!? Really? One: I’m the tenant’s boyfriend, not a squatter. And two: do we need to go check the lease to see whose responsibility it is to take care of leaks? Because I know for a fact that it’s explicitly stated there.”

Peter feels a hand on his shoulder, but he refuses to look at Wade, not when the landlord is staring him down. After a few seconds, Wade pushes past him to hand the keys to the guy. “Kathy has my papers _and deposit_ , right?”

The landlord huffs as he snatches the keys from Wade, bumping into Peter as he exits the apartment. They hear a mumbled string of choice words that color them impressed.

Peter points his thumb towards the door as he looks back at Wade. “ _This_ is what you have to deal with all the time?”

“Nah. He was rather pleasant today. Guess he didn’t want to act up in front of my _boyfriend_.”

Peter heads into the living room in order to hide his blush. “Let’s grab your stuff.”

“Boyfriend. I like the sound of that.”

It’s awkward for him to be called out like this, but Peter also likes the sound of it.

A few weeks later, Wade and Peter find themselves in a new sort of routine. Their patrols and daily schedules are almost the same as before except Peter never gets to sneak out for a solo patrol anymore. Peter joins Wade on his workouts more often, though he typically quits early. Another part of their routine seems to be Wade’s constant acts of affection. His gentle kisses every morning, night, and at the end of patrols feel almost like clockwork at this point. Peter’s personal favorites happen in the morning.

Even on Sundays, when Peter sleeps in, the usual patterns still emerge. Not long after the coffee begins brewing, Wade shuffles into the kitchen with his face all scrunched up, sniffing the air. When he bumps into Peter, he presses a kiss to whatever part of Peter’s face he can reach before padding out of the room to sit at their dining table. Wade hunches over in his seat until his face is pressed against the table. He struggles not to fall back asleep before Peter hands him his favorite mug. Peter then spends the next ten minutes sipping coffee next to Wade, who slowly perks up. By their second cup, Wade wakes up enough to scoot closer and cling to Peter.

Sometimes Peter regrets caffeinating Wade like this, but thanks to his super-strength, he can handle walking around the apartment with over 200 pounds of love-struck mercenary strung around his middle.

Another part of their routine involves their sleeping arrangements. Wade still has his own room with all his own bedroom furniture, but he never sleeps there. It’s for show. Whenever Peter’s ready to go to bed, Wade follows him into the master bedroom. Peter never says a word about it.

The next time Wade has to go on a mission, Peter finally speaks up. He looks up from sorting the mail to see Wade return from a meeting at Sister Margaret’s. It’s his fifth trip to the bar in three days. Peter watches as Wade drops his empty knapsack to the floor and falls to the ground himself, landing face first on the living room floor. Peter looks back to the bill in his hand as he asks, “When you return, are you going to come straight here or are you going to have to go to Weasel’s bar first?”

Wade peels his face from the carpet and looks wearily at Peter. “Unfortunately, I have to go to the bar. But I’m returning in the morning, so I’ll probably end up having to call him thirty times before he wakes up and unlocks the place.” Wade groans and slams his face back down.

“Just bring your weapons home.”

“No!” Wade’s voice is muffled.

“If you’re refusing because of me, stop. Come straight home after your mission.”

“But why!?”

“Just do it.”

Wade looks up again to stare suspiciously at Peter, who resists making eye contact with him.

After his mission, Wade does as Peter says and heads straight home. His arms are laden with bags filled to the brim with various weapons. Peter paces the kitchen eagerly waiting for Wade to return. As soon as he hears the key in the lock, Peter rushes over and opens the door for him. Wade’s face rapidly goes through several expressions—surprise, confusion, then uncertainty—until it finally settles on delight moments before he leans in to peck Peter’s cheek.

Wade tries to put down the two duffle bags he’s carrying, when Peter grabs one of them from him. “Hold up. Follow me.”

Peter leads Wade into the back room, opening the door and standing to the side. Wade doesn’t follow at first, noticing that something is off from the hall. He sees his bed pushed into the corner when it’s supposed to be in the middle. He tries to assess what else is wrong when Peter nags at him.

“Wade, come on!”

Wade hesitantly takes a few steps into the room and spots two large metal cabinets with locks on the wall to his right. Peter carefully hands the duffle bag back to Wade as he goes and opens one of the giant metal boxes, gesturing to the racks and shelving inside.

“You got me gun lockers!?” Wade sets down the duffle bags and removes the knapsack from his back. He rushes over to Peter and hugs him. “You really didn’t have to do this. I know how much you hate this stuff.”

“But I also know how much of a hassle it is for you to go to Weasel’s place all the time, especially for little things like checking one of your guns. I also know you spent a lot of money on all this, so I’d much rather they be here where you can keep an eye on them rather than halfway across town where you can only access your stuff at certain hours of the day.”

Wade pulls back from the hug and looks around the room. “Wait. What happened to my dresser? And my nightstand?”

“Oh. I just put them in our bedroom.”

“O- _our_?” Wade rushes out of the room and slides into the master bedroom. His nightstand is by his side of the bed, and the dresser is right next to it. Wade looks over his shoulder at Peter who is walking across the room towards the closet.

“I moved over most of your clothes as well,” Peter explains as he opens the closet door. “But I kept our suits and winter jackets in your room, you know, for space. Oh, and there’s—”

Wade runs over and picks Peter up, attempting to spin him around but ends up stumbling in the process. Both men fall roughly onto the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing!?”

Wade answers him by clinging onto him and repeating ‘thank you’ over and over again. He appreciates Peter’s consideration for his work tools, even going as far as getting him locking cabinets. It’s enough to get Wade all sentimental, but now he’s overwhelmed with emotions. He never expected to come home and find that Peter took it upon himself to move Wade into _their_ room officially.

_It’s just one step closer to sharing a life together._

As Wade rolls around, annoying Peter with his gratitude and hugging, he spots the dresser again and panics. “Petey? How did you manage to move that heavy thing over here? I mean, the drawers are all packed and—”

Peter wriggles an arm out from under Wade and flexes it. “You forget who I am. Spider-Man. Superstrength. You know… With great power comes great… furniture moving ability.”

Wade laughs and gives Peter a sloppy wet kiss on the cheek, thanking him one last time.

Later that day when Peter goes to take a shower, Wade uses that time to dig the ring out of his dresser and hide it in one of the gun cabinets. As he locks it back up, Wade leans against the door and thinks about how hard it’s going to be for him to wait to pop the question.

_Maybe I shouldn’t wait another year. Maybe it’ll be okay to ask him sooner. I’ve been wanting this for so long, but I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out._

\- - - - - - -

On another weekend, Peter tries to hang a frame in the bedroom. Wade slips into the room to see what’s causing all the noise. As Peter hammers the nail a bit too hard, making it flush against the wall, Wade slides up next to him and spots a weird object on the ground.

“What’s that?”

Peter grunts as he tries to pry the nail out just enough to hang the frame on. “I finally figured out what I wanted to do with those movie tickets Aunt May tried to give Uncle Ben for Christmas.”

Peter reaches down and picks up the frame, taking a moment to place it correctly on the wall so it doesn’t tilt. Wade sees the two tickets stacked on top of each other but just below them are two torn ticket stubs, side by side. Wade points to the ripped pieces of paper and asks, “What’s this?” but he knows the answer as soon as he reads the name of the movie.

“It’s from our first movie date, well, official movie date, so to speak, since—”

“God, you’re such a sentimental sap.” Wade punctuates his statement with a quick kiss to Peter’s cheek. “But that’s what I like about you.”

Peter watches as Wade heads back out of the room. He knows what he wants, and he’s certain Wade wants the same thing.

_So why wait for a golden moment when I can make one myself?_

Peter grabs a small box from under his side of the bed and jogs into the living room, finding Wade sprawled out on the couch. Peter takes three long strides and stands in front of Wade. When Wade peers around him to continue watching _The Great British Baking Show_ , Peter takes one step closer.

Clutching the box in his hand behind his back, Peter takes a deep breath. “Speaking—“ He clears his throat after his voice squeaks. “Speaking of sentimental sap… you know my fortieth is coming up right?

Wade can hear Mary Berry talking about soggy bottoms, but his mind is far off, struggling not to panic. He has a strong feeling that Peter might be trying to bring up something related to their pact.

“Yeah, I know. In a little over two weeks.” When Peter doesn’t say anything, Wade tries to cut the tension with a joke. “Why are you bringing it up? Trying to test your _boyfriend_? Did I pass?”

“Yeah, sure, but… you remember our agreement right?”

“Of course. What about it?” Wade moves himself to sit on the edge of the sofa, placing his feet firmly on the ground. “Is it too soon for you? I mean, we haven’t been together for very long, so I can understand if—”

“No, but… we’ve been there for each other this whole time. I’ve known you for nearly two decades. I think I know you well enough by now.”

Wade’s heart is racing, he’s not completely sure he knows what Peter’s implying.

_It sounds like he wants to honor our pact… and I’m okay with that._

Peter brings his hands to the front and stares down at the ring box. “Remember when you found MJ’s ring? Well… it’s not actually hers. It’s… yours.” He tosses the box to Wade who manages to catch it even in a state of shock. “Try it on.”

Wade slowly opens the box and stares at the simple silver band inside, realizing now how foolish he was to think this could ever be MJ’s given the size and style. Slowly, he plucks it from the velvet cushions it’s propped in and glances up at Peter. His jaw feels slack.

Peter gives him a nervous smile and nods for him to continue. Wade places it on his left ring finger, sliding it all the way down with care. He flexes his hand a few times, feeling the comfortable fit and admiring how it stands out against his scarred skin.

“I’ve actually had that for several months now, hoping to find a Wade-like solution to reaffirming our agreement. I wanted to do it over, do it right, as people who’ve genuinely cared about each other for years and not just two guys who are lonely… but I wasn’t sure about you, how you felt about the pact, about me, so I kept doubting myself—”

“Such _fucking_ bullshit!” Wade quickly stands from his seat and storms off down the hall. Peter feels his heart drop and gasps, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. His anxiety increases when he hears the sound of a thin metal door slamming shut. Peter tries to keep himself composed as Wade stomps back into the room.

“I can’t believe you’d really think—”

Wade cuts himself off and stops short in front of Peter. He drops roughly to one knee, wincing on impact. After a brief pause, he raises a larger jewelry box and opens it, revealing a golden ring inside. Peter almost feels dizzy with the wave of relief that hits him. However, he barely has time to look at the ring when Wade starts moving both of his hands wildly, gesturing around the room. “Okay, so, pretend we’re in central park. Wait! No, that’s lame. How about the beach? Do you even like the beach? Whatever. Just pretend there’s an orchestra in the background over there, maybe some fireworks behind you, I don’t know, that implies I have to propose at night. ANYWAYS, I _obviously_ didn’t have time to plan it that far ahead, but here.”

Wade takes a breath and tries to calm himself. He pries the ring out of the box and tosses it aside. Grabbing Peter’s hand, he slides the ring onto his finger. “There. Now you know I wanted you; I _want_ you. I can’t _believe_ you would even doubt that! You should know me by now. I always want you. I’ll always want you. That’s why I tried to get this shit on lock over a year ago, and why I was planning to re-seal the deal by summer’s end. But then we got together for real, and I didn’t know if it would’ve been too soon for you and DAMMIT! Sorry. Rambling. Anyways…”

Struggling to his feet, Wade stands and grabs Peter’s face, kissing him tenderly. “I want you, Petey. Always have.”

“Even if I become all fat and gray and old in negative five years?”

“ESPECIALLY THEN!” Wade grabs Peter by the hips and gives him a once-over before pulling him close. “I love you just the way you are.”

“Then can we do this right? Plan a real marriage and not just go off of some silly pact you made because I was lonely and you were holding my food hostage?”

“Hey, don’t be offended that I know your weakness! But seriously… Yes! Yes, let’s do this right this time around… but just so you know, if we leave right now, I’m sure we can make it to the courthouse and—”

“Wade, come on now. That’s far too—”

“Sorry! Sorry. We can take it slow… How about the weekend after your birthday?“

“Wade!”

“Okay then. The month after—”

“WADE!”

“Fine! We’ll take it slow for real. I just—”

“Yes, thank you. I—”

Wade slides his hands around Peter’s back and embraces him as he squeals. “Spidey is my _fiancé_!” He then pulls back and firmly grips both of Peter’s shoulders, giving him a more serious look. “Are we going to be one of those couples with the elaborate summer weddings with the giant church and the—”

“No way! Besides, Aunt May always preferred backyard spring weddings, so I think we should—”

Wade groans loudly and throws himself at Peter who stumbles to catch him in a hug. “YES! THANK YOU, AUNT MAY! Me and her always vibed.”

Peter rolls his eyes before craning his neck over Wade’s shoulder to look at the ring on his hand, grinning to himself.

“I’m so _sick_ of summer weddings, and we still have one more to go to next week!”

Peter shakes his head, nuzzling against Wade’s neck. “It’s a small one, but there’s an open bar so don’t worry.”

Wade hums happily in response, pressing Peter tighter to himself. After a beat, he leans back just enough to softly kiss Peter. The touch of their lips is cut short by Wade’s inability to stop grinning. He then takes a step away to look at the man he’s going to spend the rest of his life with, trying to etch this moment into his memory. Raising a hand to brush Peter’s fringe back, Wade breathes out a small laugh when he sees light catch on the silver band around his ring finger.

He looks back down into Peter’s eyes and asks, “In all seriousness, can we at least get hitched _early_ this spring? I’ve wanted this for _years_ , Petey, not just since we made that marriage pact, and I’d rather not wait much longer if I can help it.”

Peter chuckles as he presses a kiss into Wade’s smile.

“Whatever you want.”

-The End-

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna see all the lovely fanart, please be sure to look at the [Art Masterpost](https://petitechez-theminion.tumblr.com/post/642336250282524673/this-is-the-art-masterpost-for-the).
> 
> And thank you again, [Jen](/users/yenyen/pseuds/Jennicide), for being the best beta out there!


End file.
